Blamed
by Lushard
Summary: The war with Plegia has ended. It is supposed to be the era of peace, of rebuilding. But for the new Grand Master of Ylisse and the new commander of the Pegasus Knights, peace doesn't mean rest. [Rating may go up]
1. Chapter 1

A Fire Emblem fanfiction by Lushard. The cover of this story can be found on deviousxgirl deviantart page.

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><p><em>This is the 634<em>_th__ day of my stay in Ylisse. 17 months after your passing._

_By your suggestion I write this entry. _

_To help me recover my lost memories, you said, and to preserve the new ones I make in this world. _

_I never had the courage before, only after I've found your writing in the royal journal kept in the castle. _

_But I wonder…what good would lost memories serve when I can't forge new ones with you?_

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><p><strong>Chapter 01<strong>

**Departure**

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><p>This was a checkmate.<p>

Was it?

Robin leaned in nearer to the chessboard, examining the last pieces that were still left standing. Five blacks. Two whites. The white ones constituted only of a Knight who was quite far away from the King it was supposed to protect. The Black Queen seemed as if towering over the two, standing in a position so strategic that it could hack off either the King or the remaining Knight with ease.

It _was _a checkmate.

Strange. Robin circled his table, hand moving to his chin. He had moved the White Army so delicately as to draw them closer and ambush them with the Ministers. His original plan had backfired it seemed. But how? He was sure the new tactic would work—would at least deplete the enemy of its highest ranking generals—

A knock on Robin's door roused him from his thoughts. "Rob," Chrom's voice called from outside of his dimly lit room. "May I come in?"

Robin straightened up as he eased his stiff muscles. "Please do, Your Majesty."

The door swung open and Chrom, wrapped in royal linens of blue, walked in. He stopped a few paces away from Robin's table, unable to go further due to the papers and books that were littering the floor. Should a new guard come into this room unarmed with the knowledge of the occupant, one would certainly think that the room had just been a silent witness to a robbery attempt.

Robin turned to give a slight bow to Chrom. "Excuse my appearance. You did come at an ungodly hour," he said. The man was dressed in simple trousers and shirt that were in dire need of ironing. He must have slept and worked in those clothes for the whole day, not even bothering to change in favor of 'efficiency' in 'time management,' Chrom knew he would say. The young Exalt swore he could never understand the guy's way of thinking despite the years they'd spent together in the Shepherds.

"I did, so no worries there. You might also want to drop the formality when we're alone like so many times I have told you."

Sleepy eyes were closing. "Yo. 'Sup, Chrom?"

Chrom snorted. "Something less extreme would be better, thank you. And I think I have given you this privilege of having servants to help keeping your room in order," the Exalt said as he regarded Robin with a despairing look. "That's what servants in the castle are for, you know. I didn't hire them just to empty pots and mop the floor."

Robin brushed the notion away with a movement of his hand. "Servants will only mess things up."

"_Mess _things up? Then what do you call _this_?" Chrom asked, emphasizing the whole room that was literally covered in literatures and strange gears of Robin's own making.

"An organized chaos."

Chrom shook his head, stifling a laugh. His eyes fell upon the chessboard on the table. "And what were you doing at this 'ungodly hour,' as you put it?"

Robin sat perched on the edge of his table. His eyes were bleary and his silver hair tousled. "Trying to defeat myself. Figuring out a new strategy in hopes of finding a better one from the current ones I've stored in memory. No admirable progress, so far, if you would like to know of the result. So? What about you? What brought the Exalt to his humble subject's chambers in the middle of the night?"

Carefully as to not step on his friend's belongings, Chrom made way to a nearby chair and sat. "We've just received a report from the border far north."

"Another bandit attack?"

"Yes. Three villages in the north fell victim to it."

Instantly the look on Robin's face darkened. His eyebrows were pulled down into a frown and his eyes narrowed at the space between he and Chrom. "Ferocious. Unusual for them."

"Unusual or not this situation calls for a swift departure. We can't let them linger for long. Especially not with the Risen threatening to appear at any time now that their blades have spilled blood."

"I know. You'll send men to route them?"

"I was planning on going there, actually. I won't be joining the hunt, but I need to let the villagers know that their Exalt cares for them."

"Wise decision, I suppose. The morale of the people has just been risen from the birth of the royal baby. You'll be foolish to let it drop."

"I know," Chrom said. "We will only join the soldiers halfway. We will stay for a night or two to deliver the ransom ourselves and strengthened the defenses."

Robin raised his eyebrows. "_We_?"

Chrom ignored the look Robin was giving him and was without any intention to further debate with Robin. Her wife, the Queen, Sumia, had just delivered their first child three months ago, indicating the beginning of the peaceful era many had so long waited to come—no matter how brief it may last. "Sumia will come. She insists. She will be fine as I know we will all be, just like the old days. And plus, this isn't in any way a grand mission."

"Grand or not a long travel is bound to be tiring—" Robin abruptly stopped and let his shoulders sag, on his face a conflicted look that made him look older than he was. "I'm never going to convince you two, aren't I?"

"Afraid not in this kind of matter."

Robin was Robin. He would concern himself over the smallest detail and every possibility and turn for the worst and sometimes, Chrom feared that his habit of thinking through every path possible was bordering on paranoia. "You know what you're good at, Rob," he tried to loosen his friend up. "Do that and victory will be assured."

"If that is your wish," he sighed. "When will you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Robin winced. "Reasonable. Though unkind on a sleepless few."

"Blame the late reports. Either way we shall march before dawn. You'll be in charge of the matters here while I'm away. You shall presume the title of Grand Master starting from tomorrow."

"Understood. Just be sure to bring enough Winged Riders with you."

"I've notified them."

They both fell silent. A comfortable, knowing silence that only those who had been fighting side by side for years could share.

"A lot's changed," Chrom remarked finally. His gaze rested on the small oil lamp that was illuminating the room in a weak orange shade before travelling back to Robin's face. He was wearing a tired, vacant expression that many had commented upon in these last few months. Lowering his voice, he finally said what he had meant to since a few months back. "You have too, Rob. What's troubling you?"

"Tactics. Strategies. Plans."

Chrom waited.

Robin opened his mouth to prolong his list or throw in another remark about how overly worried Chrom was but promptly closed it again. When he spoke, his voice was hollow and his stare flat. "The past."

He should have known. "You still can't remember a thing."

It wasn't a question. Ever since he'd found the silver-haired man on a grass field three years ago, he had carried nothing with him other than the clothes on his person and his name. Chrom still remembered how confused Robin had been, how at times when he'd thought no one would notice, his glance would become empty as they traveled to faraway places his memories could not name.

"Bits and pieces, lately. But everything is insignificant. Haphazard images, voices I don't recognize, lands I have yet to set a foot on." He closed his eyes and rubbed them. "Sorry. I'm just tired."

"Just know that you can always share your burden with me. I am your friend before I am your lord. That fact won't change. If only you'd heed my advice for once and stop overthinking now…"

One end of Robin's mouth twitched humorlessly. "Oh yeah, remind me again why there's _not _anyone currently succeeding in poisoning you."

"Hey, any assassination attempts on me have failed—"

"Exactly because I overthink matters," Robin cut in. "And still you will not rethink your decision about allowing your wife to go with you."

Chrom grinned. "At least we share one same trait on stubbornness."

"But she could get killed, Chrom. She would be fatigued more easily and—"

Chukling, Chrom stood up. "I'll hear no more of this, friend." As he made his way to the door, he turned to look at Robin. "Stop worrying over small things and just prepare for whatever you need to prepare. We will be counting on you."

The door swung shut and Chrom walked away. He would never hear his friend sigh and mutter, "Worrying over small things is what's precisely in my job description, you oaf."

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><p>- A -<p>

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><p>The dawn arrived too soon for Robin's liking but he dragged his feet to the gates all the same. As the Grand Master of the realm, he would need to see the royal party before they went.<p>

Chrom and a small group of his own choosing had been there before him. Tens of Pegasii and an ominous looking Wyvern—what was Cherce's pet's name again? Robin could never care enough to remember—had also assembled, bags and equipments strapped on their sides, the horses maintaining a good distance from the pack of beasts. Carriages of supplies were lined up, a carriage of intricate design containing baby Lucina among them.

Stahl was the first to give him a slap on the back. "Wake up, tactician," he said as Robin felt the air leaving his lungs in a cough. "Or do you only respond to your new title now?"

"Spare me your jokes. I only got three hours of rest," Robin said. He nodded at the others and to Sumia's beaming smile he almost cringed. "Nice to see you in good health, Your Grace."

The Queen of Ylisse, who was clad in her knight armor, smiled. A sweet smile that told nothing of the clumsy person she was underneath. "I heard about your concern over my well-being, Rob. That's very thoughtful and sweet of you, but I will be fine, thank you. To be truthful, I've never felt better."

Robin chanced a look at a scarlet-haired woman who was standing beside the Queen; the only person whose expression was mirroring his own. "I assume your good counsel had also been dismissed, Lady Cordelia?"

"I'm afraid so," replied the Pegasus Knight. Her armor had been polished, Robin saw, and her lance had a new carving on its oiled blade. If there was any other person whose life was solely dedicated to her job the same way Robin was to his, it would be Cordelia. To reward her of her servitude in the last campaign, she had been bestowed upon the rank of a general in the Shepherds as well as the leader of the mounted knights Chrom had managed to unite under his banner. On missions with the royal family she would be the one to be tasked with the responsibility of protecting and attending to Sumia if no other knights were with her.

Robin felt the slightest bit of relief at the thought of Cordelia marching beside the Queen. He knew the knight would do everything necessary to keep the royals safe.

Chrom said to Robin, "I'll keep you informed through the doves."

"That you do."

To Cordelia: "I shall leave the capital's defenses to you and the knights, Cordelia."

"What?!" Robin exclaimed, perplexed. His eyes darted between Chrom and Cordelia; the latter's face was grim and unaccepting.

With eyes still trained at Chrom and Sumia, Cordelia spoke in a bitter tone, "Apologies, Grand Master. It seems that I have also failed to convince them to bring me along. The royal family insisted that I remain to watch over the capital, no matter how I tried to persuade them otherwise."

Chrom merely smiled. "None could be entrusted with the task but you, at least in my opinion. Frederick and Stahl will march with me, and I'm certain they're capable commanders and warriors. Or do you think lowly of my judgement, Cordelia?"

Instantly the Pegasus Knight's face changed. Fear seeped first into those scarlet orbs, then they were drained out of any emotions, a mask of placidity taking over, all happening in a blink of an eye. No one seemed to have noticed but Robin—who had been paying close attention to her demeanor. An old habit of his.

"No," she said, bowing her head as strands of hair curtaining her face from view. "Or course not, Your Grace. I never did."

"I'm glad. Now then." Chrom turned to Robin and patted his shoulder. "Stay sharp, my friend."

He thought of some objection, of anything to rebut, of any reason of logic so Chrom would add more members to his party, but knew his fears were unreasonable. The city of Ylisstol needed as much men as Chrom did and more to ensure its safety from prying eyes. In the end all he could do was managing a curt reply. "And you."

Chrom issued the order to mount and the knights and soldiers did as they were told. Cordelia, Robin and the few officers of Ylisstol who went to see them off gave a salute, and off the royal party went, leaving Robin with a heavy heart.

He was not fond of the idea of being parted from his friend, disliked the many possibilities of danger that seemed to always tail the royal blood of Ylisse wherever they went. He had failed a royal family member once. He would see that he wouldn't commit the same error.


	2. Chapter 2

_This is the 637__th__ day of my stay as the tactician of the Shepherds. Of the days before I've met you I could hardly remember._

_As I read your writing, I am often plagued by the thoughts of what ifs. _

_Foolish of me, I know, especially since one is powerless to change the past. But still, I let my imagination wander. _

_What would it be like to have you here, to converse with you now that the peace you fought so hard for is attained? Would you smile the way you did when I first met you? Would you sit beside me, read with me, laugh with me?_

_Hope gives strength, you said. But then I found that it is not all that it does._

_Hope also scars the heart._

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><p><strong>Chapter 02<strong>

**Insomnia**

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><p>Three days had passed since the royal family took their left to show their support to the villages up north. The castle's atmosphere had not changed as much; same old routine, same old business were carried about. It was a typical busy day, with reports coming in waiting to be scanned and letters to be stamped and orders to be issued. Some of the cities were still under construction, the army was vigorously trained and was recruiting the young and capable.<p>

For the current commanding officer of the Pegasus Knights, the day couldn't be busier.

"…And so that about sums up the report from the patrolling knights," a recruit said.

Cordelia, whose mind was beginning to tire, nodded. "Thank you," she said, dismissing the young woman.

Sitting on her desk were papers, more reports she had yet to read. She repressed a sigh. Fortification called for more soldiers, and more soldiers called for a hectic schedule. There were training sessions to be planned, new routes to mark, and oh gods so many more things she couldn't possibly list in one piece of paper. She usually enjoyed being busy—it kept her mind preoccupied, prevented it from wandering to topics of the heart. But this... This was too much. Stahl and Frederick… How terribly missed were those two.

Another recruit entered her working quarter with a fresh bundle of papers. "Excuse me, Commander. These are the reports from the northern borders."

Yes, this was it.

"Put them on the table." Cordelia stood up from her chair, ready to leave the office that had beginning to feel too small for her to breathe. "I'll read them after lunch."

She exited the room and but did not head to the mess hall and opted to grab a loaf of bread in the kitchens instead, consuming it in mere seconds without even sitting in one of the tables. Soon, she found her feet carrying her to climb the staircase leading to the west wing where the gardens were. The sun was high and was shining bright when she stepped out of the building, but she welcomed the change in atmosphere all the same. The air, fresh and clean, smelled of grass and was giving a soothing feeling to her. Her time was mostly spent in barracks giving orders or devising training modules for recruits and so, she rarely took breaks like this. To be out of that office of hers was a breather.

Cordelia walked slowly around the gardens. Summer was ending, and some of the leaves had turned orange and red, creating a patchwork of colors that she found beautiful. There were only a few people about who chose to spend their midday break here and for the serenity she was grateful.

"Taking a walk, M'Lady?"

At the voice that came from behind her she almost jumped. Turning, she found the new Grand Master of Ylisse standing a few paces away from her.

He held up a hand in apology before she could properly greet him. "Didn't mean to surprise you," he said.

"No, it's quite all right," she said. The grass must have muffled his footsteps or she had simply missed them altogether due to her exhaustion.

Robin inclined his head, clasping his hands behind him. He was not wearing his usual cloak, and Cordelia noticed that there were dark circles around his eyes. "I presume that you plan to spend your break time here. May I accompany you?" he asked.

"Yes, of course."

They walked toward a nearby bench and sat.

"You look tired," observed Robin, giving her a sideways glance.

"And pardon me for saying, but _you_ look as if you haven't slept at all, sir."

"I've got little to none," he admitted.

Cordelia acknowledged it with a sympathetic smile, having passing by him in the hallways every once too often these days. "I can imagine. It takes days to get used to a new position."

Robin stifled a yawn. "True. But days for you might be weeks for me."

She brushed the comment aside with a humble shake of her head then promptly fell silent, not knowing where she could steer the conversation into. Robin didn't seem to mind nor did he seem disturbed at the lack of topic. The man just rested his elbows on his knees and closed his eyes, strands of silver hair falling to his eyes.

Strange. There were not so many people who assumed a stance that relaxed around her.

But then again, who was she to judge him? Yes, she had known the man as the master tactician of the Shepherds, the best friend of Chrom's, and now the Grand Master of Ylisse, but apart from those titles that even street kids would have known, she knew almost nothing about him. For all it was worth, she had barely conversed with him during their days of fighting save for the occasional greetings and idle chat whenever they met in the barracks.

People spoke highly of him, praising his intuition and tactics that brought about the victory of the Shepherds over the Plegian Army. Some, though, were distrustful: stating that with his origins unknown and his case of amnesia, he could be as well as plotting behind Chrom's back. Cordelia had harbored the same thought of suspicion after hearing his background story at first. But soon that suspicion turned into respect as she saw with her own two eyes what the man was capable and of what deeds he had done to aid Chrom in his conquest.

But looking at him now, who looked as if he was just about to doze off beside her, she didn't know what to think of the young Grand master. For all the accounts of his genius, he seemed just like any ordinary young man who was sleep-deprived because of his work.

And there was also that strange mark on the back of his right hand. A mark of the accursed, many said. It was visible to see since his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. A daring movement, she supposed. It was a yell to dubious minds that he was as unknowledgeable of the mark just like they were.

"Think I can steal a nap?" he murmured without opening his eyes.

Cordelia blinked at the sudden question. "Here?"

He sleepily nodded. "Please wake me up when lunch time is over." With that, his head plopped down, and his consciousness was lost.

She could have just left him. She could have told a stationed guard to do his bidding. But to her own mild surprise she found herself sitting beside the sleeping Grand Master, waiting for an hour to pass before shaking his shoulder gently to rouse him from his slumber.

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><p>- A -<p>

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><p>The content of Chrom's letter spoke mostly of what he had predicted upon reading the status report from mounted knights and studying the map of the northern area. The bandits had taken two of the central villages. Chrom's assault party had approached the designated area where Robin had planned for them to stop and split up into three groups. Two would attack from the south and the east. One group of Pegasii Knights would fly across the cliffs surrounding the north part of the village and launch a surprise attack from there.<p>

If all went according to plan, the first village would be re-seized in less than a fortnight. The second one would come soon. If he had not miscalculated anything, that was.

Robin folded the letter and threw it upon the pile of papers on his desk.

He looked out of his window and saw the moon dangling in the blue-cobalt sky. It was almost midnight, and yet, he found himself unable to rest.

He sat on his bed, eyes trailing to the floor, hands latched together. Whenever he closed his eyes his mind would drift to Chrom. Always to Chrom and Sumia and Lissa. To the royal family he owed his debts to, his first friends.

Ah, and he must not forget about the baby Lucina too, for the royal family had grown.

Those four… He needed to make sure that those four were alive and well.

Three of them were miles away, and as usual, the burden of being separated from them nagged at the corner of his mind like an insistent beggar. He hated how his mind would ponder through all the worst possible scenarios.

_No more failures_.

_No more deaths_.

As time dragged on and his fatigue caught up with him, he contemplated the idea of strolling through the gardens and just sleep on a bench. At least he had been able to steal a nap there. Maybe it had been the good breeze, maybe it had been the calming scent of approaching autumn… For whatever reasons he couldn't fathom he _had _dozed off in the royal gardens, even managing a blissful one-hour rest. He'd count it as a miracle in his insomniac days.

Would he be able to once again if he went there? He could wrap himself with a blanket to fight the night wind. He could find a long bench to stretch, or simply curl himself under a tree until sleep found him. Gods, how good would it be able to fall asleep so easily like he had in the noon..!

Idiot, he quickly reprimanded himself. 'The Grand Master is found sleeping in the gardens' would sure become a laughing stock for days if not weeks. Shaking his head, he got up and opened a nearby drawer by the bed.

Inside was a single bound leather book, trimmed with golden and silver lines. There was no title on the cover. Robin drew it and began flipping through the pages, searching for the last page where he'd left the night before as he sat back on the mattress, jostling it under his weight. Familiar hand writing in black and blue ink jumped from the pages. It was eloquent as it was beautiful, two descriptive words he would use also to praise the content of the journal.

Mentally, he repeated the same apology he wished the author could hear each night. He brought the author's name into prayer before he immersed himself in the writing.

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><p>- A -<p>

* * *

><p>"No, Lissa dear, that dress won't do. Red does not go well in this kind of activity."<p>

Lissa looked at the red, short-sleeved dress in her hands and pouted. "Aw, that's too bad. This newly tailored dress is super-cute."

Maribelle shook her head, blond curls swaying elegantly as she clicked her tongue. She took the red dress from an unwilling Lissa and deposited it into the arms of a servant. "No, dear. An act of charity calls for a subtler color as to not raise any brows," she said to Lissa's reflection in the mirror.

"Hm. What do you suggest then?"

"Green. It should prove to be an excellent choice for today."

Lissa glanced at a green dress a servant was carrying and shrugged. Her friend may have a point. She was to go to the villages west of the capital to bring provision to keep the people's spirits up after the news of the Risen and bandit raids sprang up.

"I'll wear it then," the princess said.

The door to her chambers was knocked and a guard posted outside announced the visit of the Grand Master. "Might I come in, Princess?" Robin's voice carried over.

"Of course."

Robin entered the room with long strides. He gave Lissa a bow and nodded to Maribelle. "Good morning, Princess Lissa. My Lady."

Maribelle curtsied, followed by the rest of the servants in the room. "Good morning, Grand Master."

"Morning, Rob!" Lissa chirped. "I see that you're not fond of your new cloak."

Robin flashed a tired smile. He shrugged, looking way too casual for someone of his rank in a collared shirt and dark trousers. "I fear that it's too grand and heavy, Princess. The tailor has not re-designed it to better fit my size. The measurements he's taken seem to fit an image of a fat, cranky old man."

Lissa giggled at the thought. "Yes. Well, the wearers of the cloak before you might be just that. Old, fat and cranky. You might become like that too in time."

"Ah, don't feed my imagination with such notions, please. But anyhow, I don't think it is likely to happen: I'm sure Lady Maribelle here would gladly prevent that from happening."

"You can be sure of that," said Maribelle with a curt nod. "Appearances matter, after all. One can never rely on brains alone to govern. Now before I launch into a long speech of looks and health, Rob dear, may you tell us what is it that you wish to consult with us?"

The little smile he'd been wearing disappeared from his face. Instantly Lissa was reminded that this was the person who had brought all the victories to Ylisse, the tactician who had given the realm the peace it knew now. He looked taller, his eyes colder. "It is regarding your schedule for today, Princess," he began. "The original plan was to have you go tour four villages west of Ylisstol. I'm afraid I have to restrict it to none."

"What?" Lissa exclaimed. "Why?!"

"As much as I understand how you'd love to show your people how much you care about them, your safety needs to be addressed first. The bandits and the Risen that are terrorizing the land are no mere rumors. There is a chance that your party might be ambushed on the way."

"But—the villages are quite near to each other! The routes have been scouted and the patrols—"

"The patrols can't possibly predict when the Risen will appear and where," Robin cut in. Lissa flinched at the words. "I'm sorry, Lissa," he said in a gentler voice. "I'm afraid the safest place for you to be is behind the walls of Ylisstol for the time being."

Lissa looked at the green dress Maribelle had picked then at Robin, whose blue eyes were shadowed and was tight-lipped. "It doesn't really have to be like this…" she tried to reason. Deep down, she knew his objections were right, that, yes, the Risen _could _appear anywhere and anytime and ambush them off guard, but still…! The whole Ylisse was in the state of unrest because of the recent attacks! "Rob, please consider this again. _This_ is the least I can do as a royal! I can… I can bring more guards with me...!"

"Yes, Robin," Maribelle interjected. "There should really be no worrying over our Princess' safety if we bring enough sword hands with us."

"I'm sorry, ladies, but no. As you all well know, we cannot afford to lose the men defending our capital right now that Chrom and Sumia are absent. Any thinning in our defenses would turn predatory eyes upon us." There was this note of finality in his tone and Lissa knew that when Robin used it, not even Chrom would dare to further entice him.

Eyes downcast, Lissa slowly nodded. "I…understand." She did. She truly did. She just couldn't quench the disappointment that was weighing down her heart.

A guard's voice informing the arrival of the head of the Pegasus Knights penetrated the silence that hung in the room. The door opened and permitted entry to Cordelia. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she said as she nodded to Lissa, Maribelle, and Robin, "but I'm afraid I have to object to your plan, Grand Master."

Robin regarded the intruder with a skeptical look that he didn't bother to hide. Cordelia stood close to Maribelle and Lissa, her poise challenging and firm and yet at the same time, graceful—something Lissa had always envied of the older woman. Her whole demeanor was uttering a confident aura only a seasoned warrior would possess.

Robin spoke slowly and lowly, "And why is that, Lady Cordelia?"

"Because what the Princess said is true," she said. There was no hint of sarcasm or any cockiness in her voice. It was a matter-of-fact tone: flat, light with truth, not meant to offense. "The people is in the state of unrest. Maybe those who live under solid roofs and behind stone walls are not greatly affected by the ominous news about bandit/Risen attacks, but those who do not live in fear. The garrisons and wooden towers stationed in and around the villages won't be enough should a party of those undead spring up."

Robin opened his mouth to say something, perhaps to rebut her case or point out a flaw in her arguments, but Cordelia held up a hand to silent him and continued. "Fortification may answer some of these problems, and if we're lucky, the additional numbers of soldiers-in-training I've managed to gather from the villages would prove to be useful not only in defending but repelling the enemies. The bandits, at least. But swords and arrows are not the only things that put people's minds at ease." She paused to take a step back and gestured at Lissa and Maribelle. "Having someone of royal blood and of nobility to come will be a necessary step if we want to boost their morale and bring peace to their minds. And further, I assure you that many more men and women will be prompted to take up arms and enlist."

No one dared to talk after Cordelia had delivered her speech. Robin looked contemplative as well as conflicted. His eyes were focusing on Cordelia's, and frankly, Lissa had simply _never _seen the usually composed tactician looking this…murderous. Yes, that would be one word best to describe his expression right now, she decided. Narrowed eyes, creased brows, mouth curled distastefully. Lissa certainly owed a lot to the Pegasus Knight.

"Valid points…" Robin said finally. "But you haven't answered the big question yet."

"Ah, the how's." Cordelia nodded. "I'll simply ride with them."

Learning from experience, he kept silent and waited for Cordelia to explain, to which she did. "I'll go with them disguised as a normal knight," she said. "I will dye my hair and wear a recruit's armor. My post within the castle walls will be taken by one of my subordinates who will pose as myself—of course, that person will also be the most capable knight under me. Seeing that the 'tour' will not take more than a week, I suppose that should prove not to be too much of a problem."

Lissa jumped straight to drive the point further. "Yes, Rob! If we have Cordelia with us, you won't need to be super-worried day and night! You'll get old and fat and cranky earlier if you keep those furrowed all the time!" she said, pointing to silver eyebrows with her index finger.

"You know exactly the words to undo me, Princess." It was clear right now that Robin was more amused than annoyed. One end of his firm mouth was teasing upward as he looked at Lissa. But then his eyes cooled into those dark, unreadable hues when they traveled back to Cordelia's figure. "All right, then," he said, and Lissa gripped Maribelle's hand in glee, "I will entrust the Princess and Lady Maribelle's safety to you. Providing you will give me a daily report through the doves."

Cordelia solemnly bowed. "I will, Grand Master."

Maribelle acted before Robin could change his mind or even move an inch. She spun him by the shoulders and walked him to the door. "Now that we have your permission, mister, we ladies shall have our time dressing properly."

Robin did not protest and allowed himself to be steered out of the room like a lamb ready for slaughter. Before the door close behind him, he sent what Lissa could only describe as a look of both concern and slight indignation. The door clasped shut, then Lissa jumped to hug Cordelia, causing the latter to gasp in surprise.

"Thank you so, soooo much, Cordelia!"

Cordelia just stood awkwardly for a second before she politely disentangle herself from Lissa. "No thanks necessary, Princess," she said, a faint smile on her lips. "You have a noble heart and a just cause. It is my duty to see that your people also see that kindness in you."

Lissa had the intelligence not to blush at her praise but turned her head sideway to giggle. "And that face! I've never seen Rob looking so dejected! Not even my craziest pranks have ever pulled such a look!"

Immediately Cordelia's expression sobered. "I hope I haven't crossed any lines… Or I should expect to be demoted upon my return to the capital."

Lissa's giggle erupted into laughter that Maribelle also shared. "Oh, no, don't worry," Lissa said as she tried to control her breathing. "Rob's really not that kind of person. He just hates losing a debate, that's all."

Maribelle's laughter ceased, and she added, "But seriously, dear. Is it just me or is _he _getting more and more paranoid these days? He's increased the guards stationed around your chambers, has he not?"

"He has. But I think that's just him," Lissa said with a shrug. She was reminded of the time she'd spent together with Robin and Chrom, of the nights when they were forced to go separate ways under dire circumstances. Chrom had always been a trusting friend, and Lissa had often been stuck with no one but Robin in their fighting days. He had always been protective, though Chrom and Robin differed in their ways of showing it. "Paranoia or whatever ailment it is he's suffering from will be healed when my brother returns. Now…" She motioned for a servant to get the dress she was supposed to don. "May the dress up begin!"

* * *

><p>~ x x x ~<p>

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN:_ **_drunkdragon: thank u for the kind words! I'll read and review yours once my hectic schedule takes a pity on me and my muse! | Guest[01], Gunlord500: thanks again for reading and reviewing! | Flipnhaole: they are such work-a-holics aren't they... Ylisse needs people like that though, with Chrom at the helm...No offense, Chrom! | Guest[02]: why, it's such a pleasure to encounter a reader of Memories of Brighter Days! hope you can also enjoy this one!_


	3. Chapter 3

_This is the 645__th__ day of my stay in Ylisse._

_Upon taking a short, leisure stroll this morning, I saw a bird dying on the ground of a forest. A blue canary. There was a gash on its stomach. Probably the doing of an avian predator._

_I inspected the wound and tried a simple conjuration on the helpless creature. To no avail. The wound was too deep, and it had lost much blood already. _

_As precious seconds trickled by, the bird died on my palms. It did not utter any sound when its life oozed from the tiny body. It only blinked once, twice, then closed its eyes._

_What thoughts must have the creature had upon its last breath? Thoughts of sorrow, perhaps? Or peace?_

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><p><strong>Chapter 03<strong>

**Blunder**

* * *

><p>The first village on their list was small and its villagers were noticeably wary. The atmosphere was tense and quiet. Despite the early hour, the local farms were almost bare of any field workers save for some groups of twos who were tending to their crops and animals, their eyes were watchful when the royal party marched into the village. Their fear was understandable. There was only one watch tower standing at the gate of the village. The wall surrounding it was made of wood. No guards could be seen.<p>

Had they been killed? Had this village been attacked? More than once?

Yes, she supposed. Cordelia saw that these farmers had swords or daggers on their belts, some of them were groping for the hilts as they approached near. No farmers would act that paranoid if their village had not seen blood.

Lissa forbade the blow of a trumpet, not wanting to scare the villagers with any grand announcements of her arrival. She opted to dismount from her steed instead, and walked at the front, accompanied by Maribelle, and Cordelia, whose hair was dyed black and was wearing a simple armor of a low-ranking knight. A guard shouted to announce her presence.

The villagers came out from their houses, reluctantly at first, but once encouraged by the sight of carts of food, quite eager to form a circle around the young princess. Lissa greeted them with a wide smile, calling to the children especially as she ordered the carts to be unloaded. She had also brought toys with her. Seeing this, the tense atmosphere was gone.

The visit went smoothly, so to speak. The villagers warmed up quickly to the cheerful princess and her friend. They accepted the gifts with wide, happy eyes. And yes, their stories did confirm Cordelia's suspicion. The village had suffered from a bandit attack three weeks prior to the royal party's arrival. Not much had been lost since the band had been small and the guards still present. But still, there had been casualties. One third of the guards had been hurt. What they had not expected then was the Risen to terrorize the area soon after. Less than a week, and the village stood unguarded.

They had repaired the wooden wall in haste, fearing that the next attack would come before a new batch of guards. Men had been armed and kids had been told not to go outside of the houses. Tens of villagers had fallen victims. And now that they were running out of medical stock, their fear of the wounded to become one of the Risen increased by a hundred fold.

"We haven't even finished in burying the dead when one of them rose as a soulless creature," one of the women said in a trembling voice. Lissa was holding the woman's hand. "My husband rose next… And then we were forced to run from the burial ground…" She stopped short and started sobbing.

Lissa held the woman, comforting her in a low murmur.

Another woman, older, spoke. "They stank worse than the corpses they had been a minute ago, Princess. Harder to fell than living men too. They only had the mind to feed on us."

"We have some who are deeply wounded by the last attack with us," added a man. "We're really worried that they would rise as one of those undead, so we're forced to keep them in a locked cabin."

Hearing this, Cordelia bit her lip as she went about her duty in helping the knights to distribute food and supplies. She knew what was left unsaid: that there were men posted around said cabin, armed with whatever sharp objects they had, waiting unsurely for any signs of malice from the wounded. They'd be forced to kill their own kinsmen.

This…was worse than the report had told. Cordelia passed a crate she was holding to a knight. She approached Lissa and the circle of people around her. She caught Lissa's gaze, then gave her a small nod. _Time to go. We cannot not afford travel in the dark._

Though looking unwilling to part from the small crowd just yet, Lissa promised the villagers that she would return again, and that she would provide them with whatever it was that they needed on a regular basis. A group of guards would be left here to defend them. Doves had also been given as means to communicate, so that if the village was ever suffering from another attack again or in dire need of fighting hands, they would not risk to send a runner through the thick woods.

Lissa offered to heal the wounded first before leaving—an offer the villagers accepted with tearful eyes and abundant thanks—then she and Maribelle said their farewell. Heading southwest, the party resumed their journey.

Lissa was uncharacteristically silent on the way to the second village they were supposed to visit before evening. Maribelle and Cordelia were riding beside her, and after a lot of musing on their part, it was Maribelle who finally spoke her mind. "The situation is unsettling, isn't it…"

"Yeah," Lissa said, somewhat absentmindedly with her gaze still trailed to the path before her.

"What's on your mind, Lissa, dear?"

"Many things," came the reply along with a pout. "I…was thinking of how the peace we'd fought to achieve is slipping away."

Maribelle steered her steed closer to her friend. "Stop thinking of such things, now. You know there are things we can do to prevent worse things from happening. Such is the reason why your brother was so insistent on going north." Lissa didn't reply to that, so Maribelle took it to continue, in a meeker tone. "We can't predict anything about when or where the Risen will appear, just as Robin said. But we can prevent people from getting wounded and killed and becoming one of them. You have just done that."

"I don't know. I feel like I haven't been that much of a help…"

"You need not to think like a self-depreciating fool," chided the blonde woman.

"But Chrom's fighting out there while all I can do is—"

It was Cordelia who then took it as her cue to speak up. "Your brother is fighting to protect the peace, yes. You may not wield a sword and may not harbor the prowess that he has, but you have something that could prove to be just as fatal, Princess."

Lissa's eyes widened. There was insecurity misting the hazel orbs, a rare find on the usually upbeat girl. "And what's that?"

Cordelia smiled. "Valor, Princess."

"Valor?"

"Yes. Think of what you have just done. Think of the villagers' tears of gratitude and the children's smiles. They were all your doing."

Lissa seemed to contemplate on the idea for a moment before deciding that it was acceptable. The slow smile that was creeping on her lips was proof enough. "Thanks again, you two. I'll try to do what I can 'till peace is ensured again!"

"Well, that's the Lissa I know and love," said Maribelle. "You can't cheer the people up looking as if you've just walked into a funeral!"

Cordelia watched as Lissa and Maribelle entered a light banter. The Princess of Ylisse was sure someone with a light, carefree spirit, she thought. Looking at her now, she didn't give any indication that she had been sober thirty seconds ago. She was quite alike to Chrom in that way, though of course Lissa excelled a great deal in spirit.

Chrom…

Cordelia shut her eyes and tried not to think further of him.

She was a knight. A knight ought to be trained in the matters of physical strength and also the mind. She knew that. But sometimes, the wall she put around her heart and mind would shatter at the thought of him.

The silly yearning of the prince's attention and affection may have faded in the year that followed his marriage to her best friend. She was glad that it had been Sumia; she truly did feel that the two were suited to each other. Still…the feelings she'd reserved for him lingered. Not as strong as before, but they had also yet to vanish completely. Could they truly disappear, she often wondered.

There was a cry of alert from above. It was a Pegasus Knight who was scouting ahead of them. She informed them of two men running to the direction of the royal party. The knights who marched on land along with the three ladies must have heard the approaching footsteps too, for the acting commander gave a signal to stop and wait with their weapons unsheathed.

From bushes at one side of the road came two men in tattered clothes. There were bruises and cuts on their bodies, and with ragged breath and wide-fearful eyes, they fell to their knees, held at bay by the knights to keep them away from Lissa and Maribelle. "Please," one of them said, eyes boring to the knight's closest to him then to the Princess'. "Please, please… Help us…!"

Cordelia held her spear at the ready. "What happened?" she asked.

"Bandits," the other man rasped. "They're attacking our village!"

Lissa and Maribelle quickly exchanged shocked glances. Cordelia urged her steed to trot closer to the men. "In broad daylight?"

"They came from the west, marauding swift with horses and wyverns," the first man said. "We were able to escape because we'd been on the field…"

"Please… Help our families!"

Lissa urged her steed to move forward. "We will."

"Lissa! We cannot!" Maribelle exclaimed.

"What?! Why can't we? People are being killed even as we speak! Are you suggesting we just walk away and let them die?!"

"No! It's not that I want to leave the matter be. But..." Maribelle was clearly having a fight with herself over the matter, it seemed. It was made visible by the deep frown between blond eyebrows and the chewing of her lips. "Look. We'd be deviating from our plans for the day! Not to mention that there is no village nearby in the map!"

Sensing that their prospect of gaining help was about to be lost, one of the men wailed. "There are many villages here that are not present on the map, My Lady. Ours is small! Please, I beg you! Come to our help!"

"But we can't let them be!" Lissa countered. She looked up to a Pegasus rider who was coming back from a quick look.

"It's a mile to the north!" she said. "Up on a hill!"

Having it confirmed, Lissa wasted no second to gallop. "Knights, let's go!"

Cordelia and half of the Pegasus Knights quickly ascended to the sky while Lissa told the men to direct the land party. Cordelia squinted against the glinting sun, then tried to see where the scout had flown to and followed her figure in a distance.

Ah. She could see it. A small village indeed; it didn't look like it housed more than twenty families at best. It was nested on a small hill with black smokes beginning to rise from where it stood. "With me," she shouted to the riders.

They flew over the dense canopy of trees. Up high and closer to the village, she could see that the raid had been swift and devastating. Almost all of the houses were on fire, the farms trampled upon, people scattering about. Some were running for their lives down the slope, some were trying to fight back the band of leather-clothed men and women who were armed better than the farmers. Cordelia gave a hand signal and the group of Pegasus Knights began their descend, right into the heart of the village.

Thirty or perhaps forty in total. Only eight were archers. The fight would be a quick one. Tending to the wounded would be another story.

A part of Cordelia was supporting Maribelle's earlier argument, thinking of what report should she write to the Grand Master who was very adamant that they should follow the plans and not to stray from the routes which he had marked. But at the same time, her duty was foremost to adhere to the royal family and serve them with all her strength.

_Focus_.

Spears met swords, arrows met shields. The bandits had the tact to make haste into retreating back into the woods at the foot of the hill. Besting a group of trained knights mounted on winged horses was something they clearly had not prepared to do.

Within no time half of the bandits had been felled. The rest had gone into the safety of the trees where the Pegasii had troubles navigating through. Cordelia shouted the order to stop their pursuit and went to check on her party and the village. Not much damage had been done to hers; the village was an entirely different story. She wasn't sure how Lissa would react if she saw the calamity. If the first village had pulled down her spirit so then the view of dead bodies, weeping children and burnt houses was bound to sadden her more.

But wait. Where was Lissa?

She had marched on ground with the rest of the knights which numbered from sixty to seventy in total. The forest may be dense and the path leading to the hill may be a steep climb, but more than thirty minutes had passed since. "Do you see the royal party?" she shouted at one of her subordinates.

"Not since the last time we parted ways, My Lady," a woman replied.

Cordelia kicked her mount to sear into the sky with a troubled mind. Making a wide circle atop the trees, she tried to search for any signs of armored riders and horses. No luck. She had to land.

A few more rounds and at last she found a small clearing near the base of the hill. Cordelia's Pegasus landed with a thud, the ground soft beneath the hooves. Something was amiss. The forest was too quiet. There was no sound of the horses, no bustling of steel or cries of marching soldiers. Even the birds did not chirp.

Cordelia urged her Pegasus to move forward into the thickness of the forest, searching, hoping. A three minute of searching blindly led her to a confirmation of her fears: a corpse. A knight. Bearing the Ylisse emblem.

No. _Please, no_…

Gasps from the other knights who had followed her could be heard. "My Lady…!" one called.

Without thinking Cordelia spun her steed and came closer to a knight who was beckoning her. There, what she saw was remnants of a massacre.

Blooded bodies of men and women and horses were strewn about in the wrong angles; weapons and shields laying harmlessly still, the ground soaked with blood.

It took a while for her to find her voice. "Search for the Princess," she said. Too weak. Cordelia tried to fight the consternation and feeling of helplessness that were gripping her being. "Search for the Princess and Lady Maribelle!" she managed to shout.

Please. _No more…_

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><p>- A -<p>

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><p>Chrom had put everything just as Robin had told him: the frontliners camping a distance away in an open field, another group concealed deeper in the woods. Distractors. Chrom would need to make the first group as a bait to lure the enemies into thinking that those were all the men they'd need to be concerned about.<p>

He didn't know much about military tactics and strategies despite the many books and scripts his tutors had drilled upon him, but he knew enough that dividing an army into units or groups was something that was usually advised against.

Any misgivings he had had about the attack plan was evaporating the moment he heard the scouts reporting the way the enemies behaved. They stood confidently with what they had, and all their efforts were focused on manning the gates and the walls. It was just as Robin had predicted.

Many in number the bandits may be, but their wall was thin and their defenses concentrated at the front, trusting the high cliff behind them to be a solid wall created by nature. They would not be expecting the attack of Wyvern Riders and Pegasus Knights from said cliff.

Damned be all the scripts and books, right?

He had seen with his own eyes how Robin's tactics could catch the enemies off guard exactly because he deviated from the general principle of war. He had benefited from his friend's devious mind in strategy. He wouldn't follow some rules dead people wrote years ago anyway.

The night was young and the pale moon had just risen. Tomorrow they'd begin their first attack.

Chrom rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and saw the map of the area laid before him for one last time. One black knight standing at the position of the first group which he was the lead, facing ahead the village full with white pawns. One black minister was hidden in the forest at the east, while the black queen stood mightily over the cliff.

Yawning, he stood up from his chair and walked out from the main tent. He would see to it that tomorrow the bandits would suffer the same fate they had brought to his people, but for tonight, he would retire to his tent and let sleep claim him. The day's march and preparations had tired him. Sumia and Lucina were down south and were already travelling back to the safety of Ylisstol. The thought that he could not see their faces for the time being put a melancholic feeling that was still foreign to him.

He'd only need to speed things up then. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could see them.

Chrom entered his tent and loosened the straps to his shoulder guard before tossing it to a nearby chair. His boots came next then he paused.

He heard something. A rustle. Faint, but he definitely had heard it. Carefully and as slowly as possible he straightened his body and acted as casual as he could. The oil lamp in his tent gave the tent a warm glow, while at the same time, also casting shadows upon his figure and every other object in the tent.

No sounds were heard again. Instead, he saw a movement of a shadow behind him.

As quickly as he could Chrom spun on his heel and unsheathed Falchion. He jammed the blade straight into the stomach of a man who was standing only a pace away from him.

The blade ran deep, protruding at the back of the intruder. Blood was gushing from the wound, wetting his hands.

The man gurgled. A clatter of steel. He had been holding a dagger. The weapon was meant to murder in silence.

Chrom withdrew his sword and the man collapsed to his back, eyes staring emptily as his last breath left him. He was dead.

The Exalt stood unmoving for some seconds, processing it all in. The man on his feet was wearing a black cloak and light armor under it, and was wearing a mask that hid half of his face. His dagger was curved and was of a design Chrom had never seen. Tied on his right arm was a red ribbon.

"Guards!"

Briskly he wore his boots back and walked out from his tent. A few men on patrol duty had heard him call and assembled outside, Frederick among them. "An assassin has just paid my tent a visit," he told them, quenching the anger and initial shock as best as he could.

Frederick looked as if torn between shock and shame of letting an enemy slip by into his commander's tent. "And you're all right, Captain?"

"I am. You go in and examine the body, Frederick. The rest of you," Chrom said to the guards, "sound the alarm and search the entire camp!"

The men nodded and quickly left to do what they'd been ordered. Chrom's grip on Falchion's hilt tightened. He prayed for Sumia and Lucina's safety.

* * *

><p>- A -<p>

* * *

><p>A flicker of fire.<p>

Orange in color. Two seconds. Too small, didn't last long enough.

Robin noted the results on a piece of paper and tried to concentrate once more. This time, with more effort and a more measured approach. Couldn't be too forceful, couldn't be too weak. Remember the runes, imagine the heat, control the flow of energy.

Another flicker popped from his palm, in the color of blue now. Bigger. It lasted for five seconds.

No, six.

Better. But not good enough.

With his left hand he flipped to the next page of his tome, a worn book that had seen many uses in their war against the Plegians, found a line he had chanted so many times upon conjuring fire spells, checked the slithering curves of black ink he had inscribed to his right arm. Nothing wrong. It was still the same spell that had burnt enemies down to ashes. But then why was the fire so weak?

Robin flipped through the pages, eyes trailing up and down old runes and additional notes and chants he had put there upon so many experimentations in the past. Inscribing the runes and magic circles onto his own body had been something he had been thinking about for more than months after acquiring his first magical tome. Though he had made a research on ancient books of magic and found that a few magicians from hundreds of years before him had successfully pulled the feat of tomeless magic, he had never dared to try until recently.

Or perhaps it was not a matter of dare. He got too much time on his hands now that he had a severe case of insomnia, and frankly, the idea to try things he had not had the time before simply jumped at him.

The black sky outside of his window indicated that it was well past midnight. He had just given up on the prospect of sleeping before twelve, knowing all too well that he would only lay with open eyes if he tried to climb into bed. He would need to exhaust his mind and body first. And even then, not every day was a success. Two or three hours before dawn were what he would get if he was lucky. More often, an hour was all he could get before his eyes snapped open and his mind started working again. He was glad for his unlimited access to the royal library and hundreds, if not thousands, of books he could salvage from it. They made a good company, the books about magic especially.

Speaking about magic and experimentation, Miriel had said once that inscribing chants upon one's body was considered as a forbidden practice due to the high probability of the magic malfunctioning. The mage herself had tried to do it once, but the very first spell had gone wrong and had nearly roasted her alive. It appeared that the issue Robin was facing now was totally the opposite. The spell wasn't working as well as it should.

Trial results had been unsatisfactory so far. The longest time he'd managed was six seconds, while a spell of the same caliber, were it to be conjured by using enchanted tomes, would produce a much stronger fire that would last for minutes. What enemy could be killed with a small ball of fire that only lasted for six seconds?

Maybe if he tried to put little circles of the sun around the runes… He grabbed a quill which sharp end he had heated, used it to draw circular lines and eyes of the sun on his arm, ignoring the stinging pain. He inked it with a red color to set it apart from the black curves that were the runic alphabets. Four small suns with eyes at the center, each intertwining with the line of runes. There. Done.

All right, all that was left was—

Sharp raps on his door startled him. Fire licked across his fingers, igniting some of the papers on his desk. Curses! Quickly his left hand reached for a smaller tome of wind under the desk, flung it open, cast a spell in reverse order. The air around him cooled considerably, then it began to condense, and droplets of water formed. He splashed them onto his desk.

Quickly the fire was extinguished. Pale white smokes arose from the ashes that had been reports and notes. His desk survived, but not without an unrepairable damage to the surface.

The knocking on his door, having paused for a moment, resumed. Robin unrolled the sleeves of his shirt to cover the ink, walked to his door and yanked it open with great irritation.

"It's two in the morning in case you haven't realized—!"

"The Princess and Lady Maribelle are missing—!"

Robin and the guard on his doorstep barked at the same time.

They stopped abruptly, staring: the guard at the pile of black soot on the partially burnt desk of the Grand Master's, and Robin at the guard.

Robin recovered first. "What?"

The guard schooled his expression and looked back at Robin again. "Sir! Most of the knights who have escorted the Princess and Lady Maribelle were ambushed. A small few survived and they've just arrived minutes ago at the gates."

Robin's thought process began to speed up, barrage of questions shooting and fear blooming in his chest. "Bring me to them."

They half-ran to the gates of the castle, Robin not even sparing a second to drape a cloak over himself and bitterly cursed the cold night air. With each step he took his heart was hammering more painfully against his ribcages.

Lissa. Lissa _and _Maribelle. How.

When they were close enough did Robin finally see a group of knights and their mounts. He quickened his pace and saw, under the light of oil lamps the guards and medics had brought in emergency, that no more than thirty women had returned. Only the Pegasus Knights? Searching, he immediately spotted a familiar face, black-dyed hair partially tainted in blood.

"Lady Cordelia." He got to her side with long strides. His mind was so clouded and furious that he dismissed the scratches on her armor and exposed flesh to jerk her by the shoulder and brought her face up close. "Explain," he said through gritted teeth.

Scarlet eyes were wide with guilt. Dry lips parting to speak. They trembled. No words came.

She was still in a state of shock. Robin loosened his grip on her shoulder. "Please," he whispered. "Tell me what happened."

"I—" Cordelia croaked. Robin waited as she collected her mind.

One of the knights who had flown back with her made a move to reach out to her commander. "We'd been riding in a hurry without rest for half a day, Grand Master. Please have—"

Robin released Cordelia and the woman almost stumbled backward were it not for another knight who rose to her help. Robin turned to the knight who'd spoken. "You will do, then," he said curtly. "I shall not need to wait for your commander to recover. Tell me what happened."

"I'll take full responsibility," said Cordelia.

Robin glanced at her. She was dismissing the support of her subordinate, apparently having regained her presence of mind enough to speak sense and stand a bit firmer.

"We were distracted by the appearance of two men when we were on the way to the second village," she began. She told him of Lissa's reaction to the news, of her taking half of the Pegasus Knights to launch into air to scout ahead and land the first strike, of what became the village and the bandits. Then of the mass of corpses. "The Princess and Lady Maribelle's bodies were nowhere to be found," she said at last. Her eyes moved to the ground.

The first thought that graced Robin's mind was to test the tomeless fire conjuration at something or someone in the vicinity. He suppressed the idea with much labor. "So," he said, breath coming out in an indignant grunt, "you're saying that not only you strayed from your route, but you were also late to realize that they may be traps in the woods."

"We could not have known," a knight tried to argue, but Robin silenced her with a glare.

He looked at Cordelia again. "You have searched thoroughly for the bodies?"

"Yes."

"You're certain that they were not amongst the dead?"

"Yes, sir. Unless… Unless they deposited the bodies in a place we didn't look."

"No signs whatsoever of the attackers?"

She met his gaze then. Uncertain, apprehensive. "Only this." Cordelia held out a piece of red cloth.

Robin took the cloth and inspected it. A ribbon? There was nothing written on it, no marks, nothing that caught his eye. A plain, red ribbon without any distinctions.

Then it struck him.

"Valmese," he said under his breath. He'd read in it a book, found it under the tag of history of the neighboring kingdom. Armed with poisoned blades, cloaks as dark as the night, a red ribbon around the arm. "Valmese assassins."

Cordelia knelt to one knee, head hanging low. Her breath was a shallow intake that could very well be a choke or a sniff for all Robin cared. "I shall take whatever punishment that you see fit for my failure, Grand Master."

But he was hardly listening. He had turned and begun to walk back to the castle. The red ribbon was clutched tightly in one hand.

_They did not slaughter her. _This was kidnapping._ A planned one._

With a mind full of all possible scenarios he tried to draw one most logical conclusion:_ they want something._

But what?

He had not reached the stairs leading to the war room when a steward came running. "My Lord! A dove has arrived! It was splotched and not of our breed!"

Robin saw that the young lad was with a letter. He received it and inspected the seal. A bull's head. He broke the seal, opened the letter, and perused the short content.

"Read," he commanded the steward with his eyes still glued to the parchment.

The boy awkwardly shuffled closer to peek at the writing.

"Memorized?" Robin asked.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Make a copy of it."

Robin summoned magic from deep within him. Fueled by rage, it flowed freely through his veins, his right arm, exploding at the tips of his fingers. The steward gasped in shock and jumped back when bright, white flame pulsed alive and set the letter ablaze.

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><p>~ x x x ~<p>

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><p><em><strong>AN:** Thank you all for your Reviews! They certainly gave me a reason to update fast!_

_Patient 0 Zero: thank you, then do please stay tuned! | Flipnhaole: You read it through ;) | Lolrus555: Don't worry about her being the centerpiece of this story because she's not. All stories, though, need some background seasoning | Simers: Thank you for your kind (can I interpret it as kind?) words! Cordelia certainly has! | brandishScott: will do! | Ginger owl 411: Now you've made my day! Let's just say it is one of my hobbies, yes? :p | WhyFly53: a good thought! It could certainly be interpreted that way... | shippaocchan: good to see you again here! hope you can enjoy this one! | Shaded-C01: we'll see, I guess~ | Puni Risacchan: I certainly hope I haven't made him too ambiguous. Nice to hear that! | Ichijoji Takeru: thanks again for dropping by! yes, FEA is just full of humor, isn't it? | TheW23AC: Ah, nice to hear that this story is likeable. Thanks for pointing it out._


	4. Chapter 4

_646__th__ day._

_I shouldn't have let them go out of the city. _

_I shouldn't have listened to her._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 04<strong>

**Dishonored**

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><p>Dawn came painfully slow that morning. None of the Pegasus Knights who had returned to Ylisstol were badly injured, but their spirits and minds were dampened. They had returned with a news that brought the entire castle to chaos, after all. Failing a mission and losing a Princess and a highborn lady were a burden far too heavy to sustain.<p>

Cordelia, especially, had not caught some rest. Her eyes were refusing to be closed more than a minute, and her mind was always wandering to the forest where she'd lost both Princess Lisa and Lady Maribelle. The forest, though dense, had been scouted by Pegasus Knights. There had been no indications of ambush or any movements at all. How had their enemies lurked about whilst avoiding detection was still something she could not understand.

The medics who had tended to her wounds had advised her to at least lay down until sunrise, but she could not. And how could she, when no one told her what to do or what to wait for? No order or punishment had been sentenced to her and her squad, not even a single word of notice. The council had assembled, she knew, and yet her fate still remained undecided.

Her fellow Pegasus Knights who were with her were suffering from the same torture, for the room was silent save for occasional murmurs. No one dared to question what would become of them now that they had directly stained the face of the royal family with their failure.

Not being able to sit still in the hospital wing anymore, she decided to leave the room. The silence hanging there was suffocating, and the lack of things to do was leaving her restless and uneasy.

The castle was bustling with activity today, and it took everything in her to ignore the looks people were giving her as she passed by. No doubt news had spread. The looks thrown on her were ranging from curiosity to plain accusation.

_A failure of a knight. Useless_.

Cordelia increased her pace until she was in front the chambers of the current Grand Master. A guard who stood in front of the door halted her advance. "The Grand Master wishes not to be disturbed right now," he said.

"The council meeting has ended, I take it?"

"It has. But he requested that no one bothers him until the next session of meeting."

Cordelia thought of some replies, but it was Robin's voice who answered from behind closed doors. "Let her in."

The guard stepped aside, though not without the narrowing of his eyes.

Permitted entry, Cordelia walked into the most untidy room she had ever been. It was a regular tower room: round, but instead of paintings and tapestries that would usually be hanging on the sloping walls, maps and various designs of things she did not recognize were displayed. The carpeted floor was literally flooded with papers and books, leaving only trails of path to the desk and the large bed. Blue curtains over the windows had not been drawn, casting a gloomy atmosphere to the interior.

Robin was seated behind his desk, still in the clothes she'd seen him upon her arrival at the castle gates. His hands were folded before him, and his eyes, red from the apparent lack of sleep, were glued to a parchment in front of him.

"How can I help you, Lady Cordelia?" he asked without glancing away from his work. There was dryness in his tone and his lack of attention to her person hurt more than a slap she would have expected upon her error. His hand did not stop from scribbling as he spoke.

"I wish to help in whatever way I can," she said. Her voice was steady, but it was lacking the firmness it usually held.

"Oh?"

She stood still as she waited but he did not utter any word more than that. It occurred to her that the Grand Master was regarding her in the same way he would a child, or worse, a nonexistent matter. Her already scarred pride did not mind the fresh wound, but, "Please, Grand Master. At least—"

"At least what?" he asked sharply, finally looking up. Fringes of silver hair fell to one eye. Those blue orbs were dark, and she could see cold fury in them. Slowly, Robin stood up. "You should be happy that the council has not decided to dump you into a dungeon just yet. You failed to even adhere to a simple order."

"Yes. I have failed the Princess and Lady Maribelle." Hearing her own voice declaring it made the gravity of her mistakes sound graver. She tried not to think of how Chrom and Sumia would react to this, and prayed that her stance and voice may not falter.

"You have." He took deliberate steps, approaching her like a big cat on a hunt. "You failed to perceive a possibility of ambush."

He stopped two steps away from her. His eyes were peering down with mild disgust. Cordelia swallowed it all in and tried to steel herself. "As I said, I take full responsibility, Sir. I will receive any punishment you deem just, but foremost I wish to partake in whatever action you plan to get the Princess and Lady Maribelle back."

Robin made short, rough bark of laughter. "There will be no battle, sadly. We will not be requiring…the strength of you knights."

She stared at him. "No battle, Sir…?"

"None." Robin turned and walked to the windows and draw the curtains to let sunlight burst through. "The Valmese wants a specific thing we possess," he said. "It will be an exchange, not a battle. _A sword raised and the Princess' head will fall_."

Her heart sank and so did the small hope she'd clutched unto. "Might I know the specific thing they ask in exchange?"

"It is none of your business."

A confidential matter, then. The council must have forbidden him from sharing. Still, it hurt to hear those words spoken so casually. It was as if she was stripped of her rank already.

A glance over one shoulder, and she could see Robin's eyes growing distant, not seeing her—not seeing at anything in particular. "Do you know," he said in a lower tone, "that failing the royal family means failing the whole Ylisse, Lady Cordelia?"

She did know. She also knew of the implications.

She kept her mouth shut.

"You will be brought before the council," he continued. "You and your knights who have failed Princess Lissa and Lady Maribelle. Just one thing before you leave this room, though…" His eyes grew several shades darker against the streaming sunlight, and for the very first time, Cordelia knew why it was the castle dwellers were so cautious around him. The new Grand Master of Ylisse was someone not to be trifled. "There are speculations…whispers, you might say, that you already of the assassins' presence when you took off with your subordinates."

For a moment she could only stare, her mind suddenly a blank state. It took two seconds for the meaning of his words to hit her. Cordelia bowed her head low, tears rising up to her eyes. They were tears of anger, mind. "I would _never _plot with the enemy against Ylisse!" she said, voice hoarse. "Think lowly of my skills as you will, but never my intentions…!"

There was silence in the moment that followed. Cordelia's heart was pounding so loud in her chest she thought it would combust. This man… this man had just accused her of treason!

"There are numerous possibilities, though." His tone was conversational, but laced with a good dose of malice. "You may have planned everything all along. Coming to the Princess' defense against my advice, getting in the right moment to present yourself to her. All military reports and scouts, after all, come to your office before they come to mine."

She straightened and, blinking away the hot tears in her eyes, looked directly into Robin's. Her voice shook with rage and other emotions she couldn't name when she spoke. "With all due respect, I wouldn't mind being blamed, Grand Master. I wouldn't mind being held responsible and demoted for my mistakes. But never, even in my wildest dreams, would I ever break my oath as a knight of Ylisse and turn my blade against the royal family."

He regarded her with a look of indifference. Moving to his table, he sat perched on it. He waved a hand towards the door. "Please. See yourself out, My Lady. You seem tired."

Cordelia didn't move.

"Your trial will take place tomorrow morning," he said when she did nothing but glaring at him. "I reckon you might want to prepare yourself and build your case."

"There is no case, Grand Master." The words came through cold and menacing, but they only made one end of Robin's mouth twitch up to her greater irritation. Her own hands were curling into fists. "Things went as I reported them to you. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Would be good if that's the truth. But the idea of you plotting against us did not only come from me. There are others who harbor the same suspicion as well. Not small in number, I may add."

"Then why I would return here, to the heart of the capital where my enemies reside, if what you and the council speculated was true?"

"To instill greater damage, perhaps? To draw suspicion. To lure us out. To make us focus on things we should not while your comrades are moving in the shadows, and many other probabilities."

"I _will never_ betray my homeland."

Robin's smile disappeared and he raised his chin. "One needs proofs in order to stand firm in a trial, don't you agree?"

"Proofs?" Her jaw dropped a little, then a raw, disbelieving laughter came out on its own. "Proofs?" She was shaking her head. "Is my military record not enough? I have served Ylisse for as long I can remember, from the very first day these hands held a spear…!"

"Ah, yes, unblemished record, yours are. But still—"

"I'd rather face the guillotine rather than going against the people and nation I swore to protect." The last three words had come out in a venomous hiss.

Cordelia was trying to calm herself, to see reason and to restrain her hands from reaching out to the man's exposed neck and squeeze the life out of him. Never in her life had her allegiance and loyalty been questioned! Much less doubted! She had killed for Ylisse, bled for Ylisse, forgone her wants for Ylisse…! How come was it that all the things she had sacrificed were trampled upon by this man who did not even have a past?! "I am a knight before anything else," she said with a set jaw. "I will die should duty requires me my life."

The look on Robin's face had changed. He was looking at her as though measuring something, as though thinking if she had been true with her words. Thinking, and perhaps doubting.

Robin repeated the motion he'd made towards the door then, and without breaking his gaze from hers, said, "Good day, Lady Cordelia."

She did not need to be urged to leave the room this time.

* * *

><p>- A -<p>

* * *

><p>The moment Cordelia spun and stormed out of his room Robin moved to one of the bookcases in his room and withdrew a book with embossed pattern. It was worn to the point that the binding was in the brink of falling apart. His own hand writing was scribbled upon the pages, and he flipped through them until he found the first of the remaining empty pages. He sat down on his chair again and started to write.<p>

At some point nearing midday his door was knocked and he permitted entry to the same young steward who had relayed the letter he'd burnt this morning. He didn't stop from his task, even as a tray of food and drink was laid at a table near his bed. The smell of fresh bread and steaming soup was inviting, but he did not have it in him to relish his hunger, much less to touch the jug of cold ale that the boy had also brought.

"Forgive me, My Lord," the young boy timidly said when Robin did not move from his chair. Robin glanced at him once to see him standing somewhat unsurely near his desk. The boy's eyes, black in color, were darting to anywhere but to meet the person's he was addressing. "I was told that you skipped your breakfast this morn. Please take some time to rest and eat, lest you fall sick."

Robin paused in his task, looking fully at the boy now.

"Er, I did not mean to be disrespectful or hinder your work," he quickly added, taking a step back in fear that the Grand Master would burst. In him taking a step back it meant that his foot stepped upon a stack of papers and some books strewn about the floor. The boy yelped, repositioned himself and bowed deep in apology. "F-forgive me, My Lord!"

"What's your name?"

His head snapped, face contorted and was almost drained of all colors.

Robin repeated his question as he set his quill down. "What's your name?"

Confused and clearly not used of being asked of this, the boy said, "Jay, My Lord."

"Jay." Robin nodded. "How old are you?"

"Ehh. I'll be fourteen in a month's time."

By now, Robin had turned to him in his chair, one feet crossed over another in a relaxed manner. His gaze moved up and down the boy's stature. Average height for someone of his age, not quite muscular, but fit enough to do labor in and around the castle, his time of service proven by the callous on his hands. This boy called Jay had a bushy brown hair that refused to be tamed by a brush, it seemed, for it sort of stuck to many directions. Had a nervous habit of twitching his thumb too. "Tell me, Jay. Who brought you into the castle?"

Looking more alarmed now than riddled, the boy's eyes grew impossibly huge. "Have I done something wrong, Grand Master?" he asked in a startled voice. "Have I done something to offend you?"

Robin shrugged. "You will offend me, if you don't answer my question."

"Ah, it's, uh… I-it was Sir Stahl, My Lord. Sir Stahl was an old acquaintance of my youngest uncle. He, uh, referred me to a cook in the castle when Lord Chrom was appointed Exalt."

"Stahl, hmm? Your uncle is in the army, I assume. The one who taught you to read and write?"

More fiddling of the hands. "Y-yes. Yes, My Lord. He did. Ever since I was a child. He takes care of me well."

Orphaned since a young age. Possibly no close relatives to depend on; traveled to the capital in hopes of a better luck. Robin leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting on knees, and motioned the boy to come closer. Jay did as he was told, albeit very warily. "You read and you write. Have you ever thought that you could lead a...better life than that of an errand boy's?"

The look on Jay's face showed cautious interest. His bushy eyebrows were drawn together, and the puzzlement over Robin's words was masked well with a tilt of his head. Robin smiled wryly. "You know your way around here, yes?"

"Yes… Yes, I do, My Lord. The cooks frequently orders me to the market and the villages nearby to replenish the kitchens storage."

"Good. Listen well, Jay. I have a very big, important task for you," he said, careful in dropping his tone to make it sound conspiratorial. Robin leaned closer until he was only an arm's length with Jay. "The task that I'm about to give you, if completed well, shall earn you my favor and a good payment worthy of, say, six months' pay."

Jay's eyes glinted at this but still had his expression guarded.

Robin flipped his right hand so the palm was facing up. He mentally chanted a shortened version of a spell and let magic course through his blood. White fire lighted his fingers. Jay held his breath when it danced in between, forming shapes undefinable as the fire flickered and licked. "Are you not intrigued by the way magic works, Jay?"

Robin knew he had the boy's curiosity and fascination captured when Jay's eyes were fixated on the fire. Robin let the fire burn out. "I can teach you a few things that I know. But I would do so if you could swear that you will not stray from my order and keep everything else I tell you a secret."

Jay looked as if he was thinking hard over the prospect. Robin merely waited while tapping his finger softly against the desk, mind supplying him with a mental image of a chess board he had often mused about at night and moving about the pieces.

When the boy finally made up his mind and offered him a silent nod, the game was set.

* * *

><p>- A -<p>

* * *

><p>The Hall was only half-occupied with people when she came in. The throne and the high seats meant for the Queen and the Grand Master were vacant, and the room looked bear with only twenty of so officials and two ministers, acting as the judges, seated in their respective seats. The few numbers was explainable: for this was a time of turmoil—<em>the turmoil mainly being the result of your failure<em>, a cold voice of her own rang in her mind—and many of a task had to be handled at once now that the situation had grown dire with the captor of the Princess had made his demands known.

A scribe, a thin, well-dressed man, was seated at a small table, apart from the members of the council, equipped with inkhorn, quills and paper; a dozen of guards who were armed to the teeth stood erect with spears in their hands.

Cordelia waked into the center of the Hall, mindful of the eyes set on her person, while the rest of the Pegasus Knights who had returned with her to Ylisstol stood some paces away from her. She was the commander. It would be _her _trial.

"Lady Cordelia, commander of the Pegasus Knights and captain of the escort team of Princess Lissa and Lady Maribelle," called the scribe.

Cordelia gave a bow.

"Lady Commander," began a minister, "the Grand Master has told us that he had heard your side of the story in person a day prior to this trial. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"He had informed the council that you are to stand without any defendants or any backup case. Is that also true?"

Murmurs of worry aired from the knights behind her. "Yes."

"What you have told to the Grand Master, Lord Robin…"

"Is also true," she said. Her eyes were focused on the minister who was speaking but her mind was not. So, Robin did not even see this trial as a matter of import now that he had heard what it was she wished to say. Cold anger rose again within her, and before the minister could open his mouth again, she said, "I shall repeat my case in front of you all and it will not be different from what you have heard from _the_ Grand Master." A little emphasis on the word 'the' was borne out of the sourness she felt in her mouth upon thinking of that silver-haired man.

The minister permitted her to continue with a gesture of his fat hand.

"We were on our way to the second village on our list, on a pathway cutting through the forests, when two men appeared on the roadside and begged for help…" From there she told about the initial misgivings Maribelle had voiced, and everything that occurred thereafter. When describing of the pile of bodies, she took care to give details of what she remembered seeing. "The two men who had come to plead for our help were amongst the fallen ones," she said.

The ministers and the council traded glances at this. "You're saying that the two had not been a part of whatever ploy of the enemy's construction?"

"Could very well be, My Lord. Though if they were slain due to their need of assurance that no survivor lived to tell where they went or they had simply never been part of the plan I do not know." The truth. It was something that still nagged at her mind: whether the two villagers had been puppets of the enemy or just victims of a cruel tactic of diversion.

The two ministers spoke to one another in hushed voices, and even without facing the knights behind her, she knew that their hearts were heavy with unrest, just as hers was. Finished discussing, the ministers sat upright again and one of them spoke. "Your tale has been considered."

It was the other who delivered the words she'd been dreading. "You, Lady Commander Cordelia, have returned from your mission without those whom you were meant to guard. You obeyed the Princess' command on field but disregarded the Grand Master's by deviating from the planned route. In the Grand Master's presence the next morning you swore that you had not known anything about the ambush and had simply followed Princess Lissa's order to lead the charge."

The voice of the minister's, loud and clear, was echoing throughout the great hall. When the last echo had bounced off the walls did the minister address the knights who stood paces from Cordelia. "Is there anything that is left?"

Silence. A few shook their heads.

"Is there anything you, as witnesses and also part of her squad, would like to add?"

No one spoke. They knew that what Cordelia had said was the whole truth; they knew nothing of the ambush, they had simply followed orders; they had strayed from the original plan.

The minister took account of their silence as a no, then looked at Cordelia and said, "Is there anything you wish to say now, Lady Cordelia?"

"One thing, yes." She took a deep breath to soothe her nerves. "Whatever the punishment or sanction it is that is seen right for my errors, please let me bear it alone."

She was aware of the widening of eyes that were boring on her back as well as the muted gasps from the women. "They had simply followed my order, My Lord," Cordelia said.

Cordelia clenched her fists to keep them from shaking. One part had been done. No, _her_ part had been. The Pegasus Knights had no need to shoulder the burden she was supposed to carry; she was their commander, the one who were entrusted to make good judgment and had issued orders. It was only right that she should be the one to be held responsible for her judgment.

The ministers and the men and women of the council seemed to consider this then agreeing. "You have not only defied the Grand Master, whose authority surpassed the no one but the Exalt, but also lost the youngest royal of the house of Ylisse and Lady Maribelle." He made a pause, both to give the scribe a moment to write down every word and to deliver the effect that did not miss its mark. Cordelia's heart was again pounding, each beat reverberated her bones, her feet threatening to give.

'_You've cheated death. Twice.' _That same cold voice was whispering in her mind. Her own, and sometimes, Phila's.

"…The court has deemed that they are actions that belittle the title and authority you now hold." The minister raised one hand that was holding staff of steel, elegant with ancient Ylissean and symbols curving its length, and brought the end down to the floor. It rang as clear as a bell.

'_Can you pull the same feat for the third time?'_

"You are seen no longer fit to hold the title of a knight nor to wield the blessed spear of the Ylissean sigil. Your rank as a commander will be passed to someone of the council's choosing and you will leave the capital without your armor or your spear."

She had seen something akin to this, in a court, years ago together with her instructor and friends upon their early days of service. Phila had brought the girls to attend a trial of a fellow Pegasus Knight who had been charged with treason, to teach them the reward of foolishness, Phila had said. The man had been dishonored then, by the hands of the late Exalt, Emmeryn, and her small circle of councilmen.

That memory supplied her with enough knowledge of what was about to transcend. Two guards, women, both, in respect of her gender, came forward. They placed themselves on either side of her, awaiting the word of order.

Several of the Pegasus Knights had spoken up in protest, but one of the ministers silenced them with a wave of his staff. Cordelia met the minister's gaze steadily. She was aware that tears were welling up, the gnawing in her heart. She opened her eyes wide, unblinking and seeing nothing, waiting for the wetness to dry before streaking her cheeks. _Not here_. She would not show weakness in front of her own subordinates and comrades.

The minister pointed the end of his staff at her, and as swift as eagles diving for jumping fish, the guards at her sides undid the straps that held her armor.

The still moment she had prayed fervently to God that he would give her strength when the needs arose had little to no impact. She could feel her blood stopping cold, the ground beneath her shaking, and she prayed, hoped, that it would open up and swallow her whole to save her of the shame.

Her chest guard fell with a thick thumping sound to the floor, the sound muffled by the fine rugs that were splayed over marble. Her shoulder guards came loose next, and so did the braces and every part of steel her outfit had on it until she was left only in her black, sleeveless shirt and skirt.

Coldness met her skin, and in her vision—or in her mind? She wasn't sure she was seeing what she was thinking or processing what she was seeing—she saw the stern faces of the ministers, and of those who were not present in the hall. Sumia's horrified look. Chrom's disappointed face. The rest of the Shepherds'.

Almost all of the knights were uttering weak sounds of broken sobbing when the deed was done.

There stood not Lady Cordelia the commander of Ylissean Pegasus Knights.

Naught but a disgraced knight who'd failed her country.

* * *

><p>- A -<p>

* * *

><p>There were two guards who were assigned to accompany her out of the hall to the dwindling steps toward the knights' quarters—no, not accompanying; they were making sure that she wouldn't do anything foolish, like, taking a swift revenge on certain group of people or stealing from the castle or meeting with a castle dweller, in that matter. Unnecessary precaution in her case. As if she would want to damage her already blemished reputation further.<p>

On her walk to her quarters she shut down all feelings and emotions, forcing her mind into auto-pilot state to prevent it from roaming and breaking what thin pillars that supported her. The guards stopped before the door leading to her chambers, and once inside, she shut it behind her, and she leaned at the wooden plank. _Don't think_, she thought to herself, biting the inner walls of her mouth. The pain felt startling but it was a welcome sensation. It distracted her from the aching of the heart. _Don't…_

Too late. The stinging bite of reality pushed tears back to her eyes, and this time, having used all the strength she'd had to stand erect in the hall, they sluiced down her cheeks.

Was this how her service to Ylisse going to end…?

_A failure of a knight._

She had failed Chrom, failed Sumia, failed Phila and her fallen comrades.

_They threw their lives away and bet on me. _And here she was: bereft of her armor and bearing the shame of having been disgraced in the presence of many.

They had died in vain, the late sisters of her order.

A knock on her door reminded her that she should not linger in the capital for long. Pushing her feet and hands to move, she began to dart about the room, packing what little things she had stored there during the one year stay after the war had ended. Where would she go? She had no destination in mind; no relatives of her were known to her.

A sound of a small object being thrown to her window made her freeze. She walked toward the closed window, on high alert now. A small stone was flung again, and it bounced off the wooden frame harmlessly. Slowly and carefully, standing with her back glued to the wall, she opened the window.

Another stone came through. Bigger this time, almost the size of a child's palm. Cordelia waited. A minute. Two. No more stones followed suit.

She eyed the stone that was now lying motionless on the floor. She touched it, and saw that there was a paper wrapped around the stone. She unwrapped it. Her room was dark—she hadn't bothered to light a lamp, but there was no mistaking of the red stamp that was at the right bottom of the paper.

It was the seal of Ylisse. The Grand Master's, to be precise.

"_Come to the west forest of Ylisstol. Don't let the guards see where you go."_

Only those words were inscribed there. There was nothing more on the other side of the paper.

What could he possibly want from her now? With scattered thoughts and a drumming heart she finished packing and went out of the room, draping a traveling cloak around her shoulders. The guards were with her until she left the gates of Ylisstol, and when she was sure she was out of their sight, she broke into a run.

It was an hour before midday but the sun was nowhere to be seen. Gray clouds had covered the sky and the air had cooled. She followed the trail leading to the forest, and didn't have to go far to see the lithe figure of Robin, in a leather jacket and dark trousers, leaning against a tree.

"You," she said, the air leaving her lungs in that one word.

Robin straightened with his hands still buried in his trousers' pockets. "Me."

If glares could kill, the Grand Master's soul would have long departed to the netherworld with his limbs torn. "What do you want?"

"Throwing formality straight out of the window, are we?"

"I am not some underling of yours that you can order around now. Answer: what do you want?"

"Your strength."

Cordelia, still breathless, gaped at the many questions that formed and crashed in her head.

"Now that you are no longer a knight of Ylisse, your strength will be pivotal in getting the Princess and Lady Maribelle back."

'How' was the question that came up next in her mind, but Robin held up a finger to hold it at bay. "I'll explain as we travel." _Travel where? _"Jay," he called out to the cluster of trees to his right, and from there emerged a young boy with two Pegasii, only lightly armored but saddled and packed with bags, trotting behind him.

The boy stumbled over a tee's root as one of the Pegasii neighed and jerked back, likely in protest to the boy's clumsy handling of the reins. "Apologies, My Lord," he said as he unsuccessfully tried to bring them closer to Robin and making a mistake by yanking, "these beasts have not been very…cooperative." Another impatient stomp to the ground answered the boy. He forcefully pulled the reins; the Pegasii flapped their wings in deviance, their tails were swishing violently.

"Stop! You're hurting them!" Cordelia automatically moved to take the reins from the boy, then in a gentler voice spoke soothing words to the Pegasii. She tugged softly at the reins and rubbed one's shoulder on the crest of its mane. Gradually, they relaxed under her touch.

"As much as I want to compliment your impressive job on calming them down, we'd better move before anyone notices my absence," said Robin. Cordelia turned to fix him a stare, but he ignored the daggers and queries in it. "I've clearly stated that explanations can wait." He received a bag from Jay and thanked the boy. "Have you delivered the letters?"

"Yes. Sir Gaius, Sir Kellam, and Lady Tharja have already departed. The others are going to leave at the time you have instructed, My Lord."

_The Shepherds?_ It was true she hadn't seen a Shepherd during the trial and the span from her return to the castle until now. Was it Robin's doing? The list of questions that she'd need to ask to the Grand Master expanded with the thought.

"Good. Run back to the castle and do as we've planned now."

The boy nodded and ran back, following the pathway Cordelia had trailed.

Robin approached one of the Pegasii and brushed the side of its muscled neck. "Care for a fast tutorial?"

"You've never ridden a Pegasus before?"

"I have. Twice. Almost fell both times."

"It is not a skill to be mastered in a day."

"I do not intend to master it. I just want a safe ride."

Thinking that the day could possibly not get any more confounding, she sighed and let memories guide her tongue to chant the same words she had repeated over and over to new recruits.

* * *

><p>~ x x x ~<p>

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN:_**_ Thanks a bunch for your Reviews over chapter 3! Seriously, your Reviews have greatly energized me! I welcome any thoughts: criticisms, feedbacks, wants, anything. I am basically a newcomer in this fandom (and to the world of Fire Emblem) so I'll be needing the voices of you all to guide me._

_Writing Cordelia is harder than I thought. I experimented with Lucina once and found that she is easier to potray. Maybe I'll properly write a Lucina fic later and post it once it's done (and when daily life is not being a cruel dictator). I am also considering to change the rating to M since there will definitely be some gore in later chapters (and perhaps some adult situation too - note the 'perhaps'). What are your thoughts, guys? And…magic! Who doesn't love magic? Some of you have commented on Robin's experiments with magic and so far, they're quite constructive! I am planning on continuing Robin's exploits of it further, in a non-godly way as possible as to not make him an overly strong character, and so, feedbacks and suggestions are welcome. PS: More FE:A characters are going to appear soon, so stay tuned!_

_[The OC boy's name, Jay, is a tribute to Suzanne Collins!]_

_Chasticot: glad to hear that she isn't OOC! It's one of my greatest fears in writing canon characters... | drunkdragon: at odds it is. Their interaction is just fun to write. You too, update fast, kay? ;) | Flipnhaole: thankies a bunch! That's the idea - realism. It's hard but it's what I try to after in this fic, seeing that the game is quite...jovial. | shippaocchan: does this do? ;) | Squaco: a genius mind calls for ingenious ideas, I guess? | Blue masked raider: a bit unfair on her, hm? I guess life can be sometimes. *cackles madly* | The W23AC: tension leads to a more interesting relationship development, yes? Seeing that Rob's nowhere near mischievous or smiley guy, I guess that is true for both of them. | Shouhei T3: you, mister, has just read my mechanism in writing [angst]. Gotta agree with you! | Lazullee: they will appear, so just wait for the chapters to come :) | Eleven Stars: yes, the original idea belongs to hiromu arakawa - one of the few genius authors whose works I totally adore. ;3 | Shizuka no Hana: thank you for the lovely review! It keeps my spirit high! | frigga soul: everything takes time. I guess. *insert evil laughter here* But, yes, Maribelle's bound to be soooo fed up. | Coalacious: steep and narrow path calls for an adventurous climb. Or a free fall. | Razorral: ah, the sound of trumpet is urging me to write the next chapter. Please, let me sleep... for a while... | Blood Stained 91: Keep reading then! And thankies for the review! | Simba Sam: I'm working on it on the next chapters! Thank you for your input! | Narzz: Ohh, hello there! So good to see readers from my old works! Nowi and the other cast of FE:A will make their debut in the chapters to come, I promise you that ;) | Oblique Moon: Fast update it is! | CapnStarSparoow: thank you! I'll definitely do! _


	5. Chapter 5

_Light._

_He could see the stream of sunlight streaming through the large windows by the royal library._

_No. Not 'see.' He could feel it…feel the warmth that enveloped him, feel the trickle of spring breeze as he seated himself on a table near a window, feel the chair creak a bit under his weight, and his fingertips touching the yellowing pages of a book he had picked from an open shelf._

_His mind shut all sensations down when it began to absorb the content of the book. It was written in Old Ylissean. The language that had perished hundreds of years ago and was barely spoken now. Bits of it were carried over to the one people spoke in, the grammar system remained roughly the same, but there were words he couldn't understand, also phrases he could not fathom._

_"Reading again, Rob?"_

_A voice so soft would never startle a man. He looked up from his book, met the smiling eyes of the Exalt._

_"Your Grace." He made a move to stand and curtsy but Emmeryn laid a hand to his shoulder and gently pushed him back to his seat. Her slender figure standing so close, he could smell the faint scent of irises coming from the silk and fine linen wrapping her body. Her golden hair, long and beautiful, blew softly as she took a seat beside him, nearest to the window._

_"What is it that you're reading?" she asked, leaning closer to the book for inspection. He instinctively drew his seat back to allow her some room. "Ah. The book of old magic and talisman."_

_"You've read it, Your Grace?"_

_"Yes." Her eyes roamed over the open pages, and when they moved to look at his he found it hard not to be captured by the hazel orbs. They glowed in the sunlight, golden hues taking over the deeper brown, like a drop of honey that glinted under the faintest of light. He must have showed the small confusion that rose from her affirmation, for her smile grew wider. "You will succumb to books ranging in themes from basic farming to poetry when you are kept in a castle for long. I even dived my nose into ones about swordplay and tales of witches and beasts."_

_The brief story of the late Exalt and how he had ruled with fear. He had heard. Said Exalt had been the one to push the nation of Plegia into taking up arms to defend their beliefs. Said Exalt had commanded that his children were to be trained in the arts of war and politics for the sole purpose of winning—if not prolonging—the war. "I…see."_

_Sensing his tentativeness to broach the subject, Emmeryn returned her attention to the book and trailed the edges with long, dainty fingers. "Has someone taught you to read Old Ylissean?"_

_"No, Your Grace. I was self-taught. But my study seems to have not accommodated for a thorough read of any books in the language," he was quick to add._

_"I can teach you so you might."_

_That caught him by surprise. "What?"_

_"I can teach you, I said."_

_"But… Aren't you busy, Your Grace? I wouldn't want to take your time while you have already abundant tasks in your hands…!"_

_"It is fine, Rob," she said, eyes crinkling. Was it delight he saw reflected in there? Was it amusement? "On afternoons like this I'm often left to my thoughts alone. There is two hours before the council is resumed after lunchtime."_

_"But—"_

_"Do you want to learn, Rob?"_

_He paused in mid-protest at the question and that made Emmeryn chuckle. "Oh, pardon me. It's just, for a moment, you really looked like Chrom when he was promised a new toy sword when he was little."_

_Heat crept to his face—part of it came from embarrassment, though the other part, he knew, came not from the likes. "Please don't tease me…"_

_"I apologize. I must say I was tempted." She pushed the book nearer to him, the subtle smile that always graced her lips was back in place. "Which part still troubles you?"_

_Grateful for the quick flick on the subject, his mind began to focus again. "Ah. This one phrase here… I'm afraid I have never heard of the words—…"_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 05<strong>

**Respite**

* * *

><p>They had to travel two miles northwest first on the beasts' feet before finally taking off. Robin had insisted that they were to remain under the trees' cover as to not rouse alarm. The Pegasii, after all, had been 'requested' by the Grand Master for 'practical purposes' that one should not inquire about.<p>

Robin had managed to grasp the basics of mounting a winged horse in the short time span of an hour. An hour full of near-falls and awkward kicks and snarls and confused neighs from the mount. Though his stance still looked unsure, it was somewhat passable as long as he didn't start free-falling from the fifty feet altitude in which they were flying. As much as Cordelia wanted to take them higher into the sky, she knew she couldn't risk it. Not when traveling with a man who had just learned how to ride a Pegasus and the dark clouds that were hanging low above them.

They had been flying for two hours straight now, in a relatively slow pace, when finally Cordelia decided that, perhaps, the numerous questions swirling in her head would again have to be kept to herself. At least for the time being.

Behind her, Robin was having quite a severe sneezing fit.

Cordelia sighed. Until they landed, she decided. Until then, she would be patient and play along in whatever plans Robin had.

Another sneeze.

"How further is it until we reach our destination?" she asked, half-shouting so her voice wouldn't lose to the strong wind.

"Half a mile, give or take—" He sneezed again, then softly grumbled under his breath.

"I suggest we land and proceed on ground." She was suggesting the idea out of pity and efficiency, and maybe, her own sanity. Hearing him sneezing for the past thirty minutes had given her a hard time stifling her laughter at first, and much irritation as time carried on. The cloak he had draped over himself did not seem to be enough to keep him warm, and to be honest, she felt at least a little of what he was going through. A little because years of flight had made her resilient to the cold wind's bite, and for the fact she was not clad in her usual armor. She felt vulnerable without the feel of hard steel enveloping her body.

She heard Robin mutter something, incomprehensible due to the sneezes, but she took it as a yes nonetheless. She skillfully drew the reins and her Pegasus began its graceful descend towards the barren land below them. Robin copied her movements with moderate success: his mount gave a violent jerky stop before finally lowering itself and glided downwards. Hers landed to the grassy ground smoothly. Robin almost tumbled off the saddle when his did.

She observed him righting his position with slight amusement. "It is not every day one gets to see the Grand Master of Ylisse cursing that much," she noted.

Robin scowled at her. "Would you even believe that I dozed off for a minute or two?" He sounded irritated.

"Yes. On extensive travels there are cases of riders falling from their saddles and crashing to the ground. And, no, I'm not kidding," she said after seeing Robin's expression of horror. There were not many maneuvers in flying when travelling, and the wind plus the low temperature might just lull riders to sleep, especially if they were worn and exhausted like Robin was.

"Thank you for the information," Robin dryly remarked. He urged his Pegasus into a trot and Cordelia followed. From under his cloak he produced a folded map and studied it. "I shouldn't be too far now. There is a village nearby where we could purchase some of the things we need."

Cordelia had seen from above that they had traveled past the Northroad. Judging from the direction in which Robin was leading them, she'd say that they were going to the borders of Ferox and maybe well past the country governed by Khans. It was time to ask.

"So, what are the plans?"

"Find the village, buy supplies, take off and continue northwest still."

She rolled her eyes. "I noticed that much."

"So you did." There was dryness to his tone as much as there was irritation quelling inside of Cordelia.

"Tell," she demanded, voice dropping cold.

"You just need to know where we are going for now and no more than that."

Her mind did a quick calculation based on the few words of information he had given. Past the borders then. And possibly 'northwest still' just as he'd put it. "Port Ferox?" she realized, voicing her thought aloud.

Robin did not acknowledge her guess nor did he deny it. Something in the way his shoulders relaxed and his insistence on staring ahead told her that whatever information he held from her was going to be revealed in time. "I shall not press further." _For now_. "But you have promised me explanations." What was left unsaid that she would demand such explanations in a precisely forceful way if she had to.

He seemed to catch this, for he had turned to face her and was widening his eyes as would a bewildered child unto his angry parent. "I have, yes. If you do not trust me at least to that extend, why ride at my side?"

Because this was the only thing that she could do, because she did not know how else she could atone for her mistakes, because, however absurd and shameful it was to admit, his words had given her hope. He had said that he needed her strength. That was more than enough. She was not a knight anymore, not a member of the Shepherds; she was nobody. The punishment that the court had seen fit was that of banishment. She had nowhere to go, no one to turn to now that some of the few she was close to had lain in eternal rest and the only one left was far away. In one plain phrase, she had been—and still was—desperate. It hurt her pride to think of the word, but then the moments of her armor being stripped of her body with dozens pairs of eyes as witnesses flashed before her, and she thought her pride couldn't be wounded worse. She let Robin's question hung in the air.

A ray of sunlight that broke through heavy layer of clouds brought her attention to the present. The clouds were not giving any indication of pouring water upon them anytime too soon, but they had also yet to depart completely. At best, it would be an hour or two before a drizzle started, which would undoubtedly evolve into a storm.

"We're near," Robin said.

A cluster of houses and two tower guards stood could finally be seen from afar. It was not a village, surely, for the size it boasted was that of a small town. Robin led them through the front gates, where two guards were standing on duty. "I'll do the talking," was all Robin said when they were nearing the gates.

The guard post was manned by two guards armed with long swords. The town must have be quite a busy one for it to be able to afford fortification of stonewalls, though it was a bit small compared to other towns that specialized in trading.

The two guards stepped out into the road, one of them holding his hand aloft in signal for Robin and Cordelia to stop.

A foolish attempt, Cordelia thought. If they were bandits who came to cause trouble they wouldn't have landed and simply ridden them down.

Robin seemed to also share her thoughts but found more amusement in it more than she did, for his mouth twitched upward before he assumed an impassive look.

"Halt," said one of the guards.

"Peace, men. We're envoys from the capital," Robin said.

The sentry who had signaled them to stop peered suspiciously at them. His eyes were darting between the riders first and their mounts second. Pegasii were mounts of choice for envoys who were in need of a fast travel. Still it was a practice seen unusual since the numbers of Pegasii riders had diminished in the previous war against the Plegians.

"Any letters of identification?"

Robin produced brown envelopes from his cloak and gave them to the guard, saying, "We're travelling north to reach one of the Khans to bring a message from the Grand Master. We took a note of the weather, and chose to search for a place where we could find shelter."

The guard read the letters, his expression unsettled. "You are sent by the Grand Master of Ylisse…" He lifted his eyes to meet theirs, but no indication on letting them pass. "How can we know that the seal is not false?"

Robin dismounted slowly from his Pegasus, and Cordelia finally realized, that up on the walls, well concealed by parapet, there were archers who were ready to shoot at the slightest bit of suspicious behavior. Robin drew from his belt a dagger with its sheath; the movement, albeit slow, made the guards tentatively reach for the hilts of their swords. "This dagger belongs to the Grand Master himself," he said, offering it to the other guard. "You can check the sigil on the blade and the pommel."

Sparing his partner a look, the second guard took the dagger from Robin and inspected it. The dagger's hilt was made of silver, and embedded on the pommel was an eye. "Distinctly Ylissean in craft," the guard said. His friend looked at it then finally nodded. "You may pass."

Robin received his dagger and letters back and remounted. As they passed the gates, Cordelia murmured, "I didn't know you have such an item of identification."

"It's crafted recently, exactly for this kind of purpose," Robin said. "I was tempted to copy the seal of the Exalt, actually."

At this point, such a sinister thought of crime in the name of efficiency coming from the new Grand Master did no longer shock Cordelia. "What made you resist the temptation?"

"Respect for the deceased." His voice made it a point that the matter was closed, and Cordelia did not probe.

It was not dusk yet but the townsmen and women had mostly retreated into the safe clutch of any roofed buildings. No one wanted to be out to be caught up in a rain. Robin and Cordelia searched for an inn, and soon found one near the heart of the town. What Cordelia hadn't expected was to hear a familiar voice greeting her by the stables' gate.

"Glad to see you two in one piece," said a low voice that belonged to Kellam.

Shocked, Cordelia, who was in the process of dismounting from her Pegasus, almost tripped and fell face first to the ground. She managed to find footing soon enough before none could happen. She turned around to see the gigantic man who was wrapped in plain clothing of brown. "Kellam!" she exclaimed. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, and for the hundredth time, Cordelia wondered how long he had been standing in the spot where he was now.

Robin dismounted from his mount and gave the reins to a stable boy who rushed to help them with the Pegasii. "Good to see you too, Kellam."

"Hullo, Rob." He nodded to the silver-haired man.

"You've done everything I asked?"

Kellam drew his body to its full, towering, height. His eyes, Cordelia noted for the first time, almost glinted in pride. '_Nobody has really paid much attention to me… Nobody has trusted me with important things before_,' she could hear him chant back the words he had said once. Having a rare talent of being hard to spot was advantageous when enemies were present; the same could not be said when in the company of friends. "Yes, Rob. I have booked a room for each of you and prepared everything else. Oh, and about the report you asked…just open the drawer right beside the bed. I've written down what I've found."

"Nice job. Presuming that the lady here will want to shop for certain things, I shall go inside to rest first," he said, giving the big man a friendly pat on the arm.

When Robin had gone into the inn, Cordelia asked, "Let me guess: he told you not to tell me anything."

Kellam scratched his head, looking apologetic. "Sorry."

"No, it's all right. It's not your fault," she said softly. If it was anyone's, it was _his_, she thought while throwing a look that would make the proudest recruits bow in discomfort at the mute walls of the inn where Robin had disappeared into. She promised to herself that she would coax everything from him eventually. Looking up, she saw that the clouds had blackened considerably. "We've probably got only minutes now, but," she hated to say it, truly, "Robin's right: I do want to purchase certain things before going in. Do you know where the blacksmith of this town resides?"

"Ah, yes, I know. It's down that road there and you need to take a turn to…uh, I can just take you there, if you don't mind my company."

Feeling a bit warmer inside after knowing that she would have a companion to talk to other than the Grand Master who had retired to the inn and the Pegasii, she smiled, for the first time in the long day. "I'd be _delighted_, Kellam. Let's go."

* * *

><p>- A -<p>

* * *

><p>The inn was quite packed with people, just as he had predicted. In this time of year, merchants and farmers would be travelling extensively to sell whatever goods they had harvested from the season before. The village, or rather, town, was situated near the borders of Ferox and near to main roads connected to Ylisse, and such was the reason why he had picked the place to resupply and rest. People came and went here, no one would bother to remember faces of brief passbyers.<p>

Robin had ordered that dinner was to be brought to his room an hour from now. He went to the room Kellam had booked then, and upon entering it, saw the figure of a woman sitting on a chair by the closed window. Despite the darkness that was engulfing the modest bedroom, there was no mistaking of who she was. Even when clad in simple clothing the woman looked every inch like a seductress; men with functioning eyes and brains would never miss the way the line of how her body sloped in a curvy road down her waist and to her thighs.

"Tharja," Robin greeted, closing the door behind him and locking it.

The black mage rose from her seat, putting aside a book she had been reading. "You are unwell, Robin."

Robin shrugged off of his cloak and jacket. "That's your greeting?"

"You are fatigued and under a lot of stress."

A note of observation or a successful attempt in spying? Tharja was known for her strange methods of gathering intel—or stalking, in that matter—that would even put a trained spy to shame. "An exaggeration," he dismissed. His boots came off next and he lighted one oil lamp before sitting on the bed. "What of the things I've asked you?"

"All done. I have gained some information from the rumors around. They have traveled northwest disguised as merchants—no blond women among them. I suspect their hair had simply been dyed. They took off from the borders of Ferox two days ago."

Two days. Robin hated how far they were from their targets. Even if they had the Pegasii, it was unlikely that they would be able to catch up with Lissa's kidnappers before they reached the port. He glanced at the window, at the darkness outside, and his mood worsened. If only they didn't have to wait for the storm to pass by…

Tharja seated herself beside him, then her hand moved quickly to snatch his right arm, unrolled the sleeve and drew a sharp breath. "These are—!"

"Magic symbols and runes, yes," Robin said, mind suddenly tiring. His body was heavy with exhaustion. He felt sick to the bones, his muscles were aching, and his sight dimming; perhaps the flight had truly taken a toll on him.

"You… Do you know how dangerous is it to carve symbols upon human body?" Her tone was low and her words came out almost like a snake's hiss. Were it not for the months of travel they'd done together, Robin would have missed the concern that was giving an edge to her voice.

"Miriel had told me, but I did it nonetheless." He saw her expression darken then added, "I've tried some spells. They worked out nicely."

Tharja's black eyes disdainfully lingered on the runes and her grip on his arm tightened. "Dangers do not only come from casting spells. There are some cases in which the mages who had done this…this wretched method had their magic gone out of control after repeated use."

"I've drawn some symbols here to prevent that from happening." He pointed to the small suns along the line of runes that had been circled with tiny words of incantations meant for protection. They were the same incantations healers had scribbled on their tomes' pages. "I think it should prevent my magic from going out of control, as you put it."

"Have you eaten?"

The question was so abrupt and absurd that Robin almost laughed. "No, but I've ordered much for dinner. A big platter of smoked beef meat and sautéed potato."

Tharja brushed the ink on his skin and pressed at one of the suns—and Robin, startled, felt as if energy was drawn out of him and flew back into him. He blinked at the woman. "What have you just—"

"You've lost your appetite." It was not a question. "Your mind tells that you that want to eat, needs to eat, but your body does not signal you of hunger. When you look at food or think of food, you will want it but after a spoonful or two your body will tell you that you don't need it. That's exactly my point when I say that the dangers are not limited to spell-casting."

He was speechless for a moment, never having considered his lack of appetite as a side effect, if you could call it that, of the magic tattoo. He'd thought that it had all resulted from his lack of sleep or stressed mind. Dimly he remembered the untouched tray of food Jay had brought to his chambers and the breakfast he'd skipped. "You're telling me that the tattoo fools my senses?"

"Not only that," she said, and disgust could be seen across her features as she stared down at the black and red inks, "it also belittles your other needs and continually draws magic from you. In a very little amount, yes, but… I don't need to tell you how devastating it can be." Tharja lifted her eyes to meet his. "Let me do something to fight these effects."

"You can? How exactly?"

"Reversing the way of the incantations work by putting a curse on you."

Robin would have scoffed at the idea if he hadn't spent hours discussing magic and hexes with Tharja beforehand. He knew that whatever idea she brought up was born from years of life as a dark mage and powerful ancestry of thick mage blood. If there was any person who would know his or her way around this kind of thing then it would be her. "I trust you," he said. He saw a flicker of emotion flash on her eyes before it disappeared and the orbs cooled. "Do what you can."

She studied his arm intently, reading every chant he had inscribed and figuring out every symbol there. "Suns. Spells of fire…" With a brush of her index finger she traced a line up the length to the elbow and Robin felt a shiver run down his body. Tharja's eyes were focused on his arm but then they closed. "The process will take a while and will be slightly uncomfortable," she whispered. "And you lack rest."

"I don't mind. I've gone through worse on the Pegasus' back."

"No. You will rest."

He half-smiled, partly to reassure her that he was fine and partly due to the irony that he was drawing unwanted sympathy. "It's okay, Tharja. It's not like I will be able to fall asleep the moment I close my eyes anyway."

"Oh. But you will." Without warning she pulled the collar of his shirt and drew his face to hers. Her lips were cold and soft and pliant on his, and he heard, or perhaps imagined, her whispering a word into him. Immediately his eyelids began to close.

Sleep claimed him in the next second.

* * *

><p>- A -<p>

* * *

><p>The first droplets of water hit the earth just when Cordelia and Kellam were striding their way back to the inn. They hastened their pace, and thankfully, managed to get inside the three-stories building when the rain became worse.<p>

Amongst the purchased things Cordelia had managed to snatch were a leather armor and hair dyes. Leather because she thought that steel armor would attract unnecessary attention, and dyes because the black color of her hair was already fading. Robin had not given any specific instructions and simply relayed a message through Kellam that she could buy whatever she thought she would need with a purse full with coins that Kellam had brought. But given his secrecy regarding their journey, having a pack of dyes in stock would be handy.

The blacksmith had also offered her a rather standard javelin with a reasonable price, which she took after a lot of musing about its balance, weight, and length. It was not in any way near the one she had forced to leave in the capital, but it would make a do. Fighting with a javelin, with a weapon she had known for a lifetime and mastered, was much better rather than with a simple combat knife that Robin had strapped on her Pegasus' saddle. She still made a note to herself to search for a better one in the next town on their travel, though. Or, if time and circumstances allowed, planned to even forge one to suit her tastes and style of fighting.

The ground floor of the building, which served as a tavern, was full of people. The only table that was unoccupied was at the far back of the room, and they moved to it. A serving lady soon came to note their orders—Cordelia's, actually. Kellam's had almost been missed out. Once she was away, Cordelia leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at Kellam.

"They don't know, do they?" she asked.

Kellam tilted his head in puzzlement. "Don't know what?"

She lowered her voice into a whisper. "That the Princess and Lady Maribelle were kidnapped."

It was something she'd noticed on her shopping trip. No mentions of the incident had been brought up by the townswomen and shop keepers. If they knew, they would gossip already, and murmurs about it would be drifting through the entire town. Kellam nodded in understanding and shrugged his massive shoulders. "Only a few do. A few, excluding the council and the Shepherds, I think. Rob's made it certain that it is not leaked."

The relief that Cordelia felt was short-lived. "But their absence will be noted by the people eventually."

"I guess so. That's why Rob's sent out people to spread false rumors? I don't know much about it, but he did say something about implanting false issues before we headed out."

"Combatting truths with lies…" she mused to herself, not sure how to feel about the plan. The knight in her detested the nature of deceitfulness, but a portion of logic and instinct told her that it was the only way to prevent further unrest among the people. The nation had it rough already with bandits and packs of Risen prowling the land. It needed only a little more pressure for it to crack.

Just until Chrom and Sumia returned, she painfully recalled. Wait until they found out, and suddenly she was glad that she wouldn't be present when they both learned who was it the knight who was responsible for the catastrophe.

Perhaps noticing the crease that must have settled between her eyebrows, Kellam spoke. "You shouldn't think too hard about it, Cordelia. I'm sure Rob has thought of things and made plans to deal with them before leaving the capital."

She sent Kellam a withering look. "You really do trust him."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Why—there are many reasons, of course. You know how suspicious his background is, how little information we hold regarding his person." She was speaking in a tone that belittled the anxiety that was pulsing in her veins. "All the people say about him behind his back. How fast he was to rise into the rank of Grand Master."

"But they are rumors. It's what people say and see. It's not what I see." His shrug couldn't be more of a slap than his words were to Cordelia. "I know who Rob is. At least to me. I say what I see, and I say that I can trust him."

Simple. Efficient and to the point. How she wished she could think like that sometimes. "And…what makes you say that?" she asked, curious as well as cautious.

Kellam held three fingers and folded it one by one as he listed: "He sees me. He seeks me. He trusts me."

There was a moment of silence at their table as Cordelia tried and almost failed to process the words. When she found her voice again, they were interrupted by the arrival of their food and drinks. Food consisted of two chunks of freshly-baked bread and a large bowl of steaming soup and a large serving of roasted lamb. Cordelia thanked the serving lady and already Kellam was filling his bowl with soup and tearing the bread.

"I'm sorry," she said as she moved slowly to fill her bowl, eyes watchful of the giant, half-scared that he would disappear from her view due to the lack of sound he made even as he ate prodigiously, and half-taken aback at what he had said concerning Robin. "I do not intend to be rude or to pry into matters. But could you…elaborate?"

Kellam chewed his food then nodded. "Robin sees me. He was the first of the Shepherd to find me and talk to me. He continues to do so, engaging me in conversations. He sought me for the first time to ask me of things I know after serving as Ylissean knight for years, and still does whenever he needs an extra man in info-gathering business." He finished his bread after dipping it into his soup. "And he trusts me enough to give me jobs when patrol duty becomes a bore."

_Such as sending you out on this town to prepare things_, Cordelia thought. Kellam, as if reading it, smiled. "Yeah, this job's one good example," he said. "Nobody's given me important tasks before. It was always guard duty or supply check or some cleaning. And nobody's ever cared." There was fondness seeping into his mild tone when he spoke and crinkles appeared as his eyes smiled with the memories. "Rob's different. He thanks me after a job's done—even when it is my duty and I don't deserve any thanks. Nobody's ever done that. Well, you know… It's… I feel like…like, I'm noticed with him."

She understood how it was like. She understood how it felt to have someone finally come into one's bleak world and bring light into it. It was just, for her, it had been Chrom. It had been Chrom who had captured her heart with his idealism. And it had been Chrom's ideal that had made her proud to raise her spear in the name of Ylisse.

"Umm… Are you not going to eat? The soup's gonna get cold, you know."

"Oh…! Yes… I'm sorry." Realizing that she had been listening without touching her bowl, she quickly ate what was left of the food. They were still somewhat warm, thankfully.

Kellam watched her as she ate, and then, diverting his eyes to the packed tavern, said, "I think there will be no bard performances tonight." He stood and picked up the bags containing the day's swift round of shopping. "Guess I'll be going now to haul these things up to your room upstairs?"

"Thank you, Kellam."

"You're always welcome."

Kellam made a move ambling away from the table. "And," Cordelia said, pausing Kellam in midstep.

He turned to look at her. "Yes?"

She pulled her lips into a smile, one that was brimming with gratitude. "I had a good company, Kellam. May we converse some more next time."

Kellam flashed a wide smile and literally disappeared into the crowd the moment he turned his back and strode amidst the tables.

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><p>~ x x x ~<p>

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><p><strong><em>AN:_**_ Thanks a bunch for your Reviews over chapter 4! I'm sorry I won't be able to reply to them one by one like I used to - blame my hectic schedule. But while some of them are constructive, almost all of them are welcoming the pace and plot of the story and I cannot thank you enough for that. _

_No time for babbling, I'm afraid... I have a thesis to finish. Apologies for any errors in this chapter if there's any. I haven't found the time to re-read it properly. *Sobs_


	6. Chapter 6

_647__th__ day._

_Life is a game where possibilities are supposed to be endless. Possibilities give birth to dreams and wishes, to imagination and wonders. You taught me that, and I respect it. For thus was your foundation of hope and ideals._

_It just happens that mine's a little bit different._

_I can only see two possibilities ahead. Neither will please you nor Chrom._

_Still, I'll bet everything I have on this plan. My pieces have moved farther than I imagined; but if I play them right, the board will change._

_For once, I will hope._

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><p><strong>Chapter 06<strong>

**Castling**

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><p>The room that Kellam had booked for her was medium-sized and dark, the only source of light was a small, flickering candle on a stool at a corner. Harsh wind was raging outside, the sound of storm that was approaching was accompanied by flashes of lightning and distant echoes of thunder.<p>

Cordelia was sitting on the edge of her bed, her fingers toying with the hard leather that was the newly purchased armor that would be a replacement of cold steel that she had rarely parted from. It was a sorry excuse for an armor, she thought. Leather might give her slight advantage in speed and movements, but its protection would not be as sure as steel's. She had only tried to don it once to make sure that it would fit her figure, and even then she'd felt that it was somehow…wrong. She had never donned a leather armor before. In her trainee days, it had been a modest steel armor. Modest, but steel nonetheless. The cold grip of its form enveloping her body had always felt secure.

Never had she imagined the day where she would don an armor not made of steel would come.

Now that she had a quiet time to be alone with her thoughts the grip of guilt that had clutched onto her heart felt as if doubled in strength. The scene where she had discovered the dead bodies of the knights laying limply on the forest floor was replaying in her mind. The notion that she had lost Princess Lissa and Lady Maribelle struck her again like a blow in the face. She had failed. She had miscalculated.

What worth is a knight who can't even be trusted to keep her masters safe?

"Cordelia."

A familiar voice and a knock on her door snapped her out from her somber thoughts. The voice was feminine; soft. Familiar.

Again it spoke, "Cordelia? Can I come in?"

It couldn't be…

Was it… Sumia?

Quickly she rose to her feet, placing the leather armor at the side of her bed and rushed to open the door.

It _was _Sumia who was standing in front of her door. For a moment, all logic failed Cordelia. Sumia was not supposed to be this far from the capital; here, in all places, in a town near the borders of Ferox. The Queen of Ylisse was in knight armor, and her face was contorted with both grief and worry.

"Cordelia, I have heard," Sumia spoke, her voice so soft it was almost like a whisper.

There was no mistaking of the sadness that was apparent in her eyes, and Cordelia, whose mind was a chaotic jumble of incoherent thoughts, could only avert her gaze. She had heard. Of course. Sooner or later she would. Hoping that Cordelia could escape from the truth by going along with Robin's plan was absurd.

"Is that why you're here?" Cordelia asked, her voice dropping low.

Sumia took a step forward to enter the poorly lit room, and Cordelia permitted her entry. "Lissa is someone dear to me," she slowly spoke.

"I know." Lissa was Sumia's sister-in-law. But even without that status the two were close, having so many shared traits that many found loveable. When the two were together, topics would never run out and giggles would always trail behind them.

"She is a precious sister. Maribelle too."

Cordelia dragged her gaze from the floor to Sumia's form. Her friend's voice had changed. She had never heard Sumia speaking in such a cold, accusing tone like that. "I—"

"You've failed me." The brown eyes, usually filled with laughter and warmth, were now dark with repressed anger. They looked wounded. "You failed to protect them."

Before Cordelia could react, through the open door, strode in Chrom. His face was mirroring his wife's, though in the dark blue orbs Cordelia could see a flash of rage that he didn't bother to conceal. "It was wrong of me to entrust you with my family's safety," he spat.

The words were laced with a good dose of bitterness that made Cordelia stagger a few steps back. _No…_ "I—I didn't realize that we were going to be ambushed…" she tried to speak, but her voice was too weak that it lost to the sound of the storm outside.

_Not them…_

Her legs were giving away. The imagination of what her encounter would be like with Sumia and Chrom after they were told of the news was made real in this very second: the two persons she held dearest were standing in her room's doorway, eyes dark with resentment, faces grim with anger. In all scenarios she had thought of this was the worst outcome she had been too scared to imagine. Their resentment, their _real _accusation, was a something she knew that would leave her broken beyond repair. Sumia, whose company she had always cherished; a friend so loving she had often wondered how a pure soul like her had taken a liking to her.

And Chrom.

Chrom, the man who had brought light to her desolate world.

Chrom, whose ideals and dreams she strived to make true, whose presence alone gave her strength to lift her spear…

"I've put too much faith in you," the Exalt said, and Cordelia's shut her eyes as coldness stabbed her chest. _Don't say it—_ "You are a disappointment."

Sumia took another step forward in a deliberate way; her face was impassive—the expression she wore was none that Cordelia had seen before. "I've overestimated you. You, whom I admired. You, whose feats drew praises from the whole realm."

Chrom joined Sumia by taking a step to stand beside her—and it hurt. Seeing him standing so close beside her best friend, poised like a solid knight he was, his sword-hand twitching to reach the grip of Falchion. "You are a failure of a knight."

The cold surface of the window met Cordelia's back. The uneven surface of the woodwork felt oddly real, the glass freezing. "I… I'm—"

From behind Chrom, there appeared Phila in her Pegasus Knight armor, just as Cordelia had last remembered her. On the front of her chest guard though, there was a smear of blood.

"Captain—?!"

"You are a disappointment indeed," the blue-haired woman said. The voice Cordelia would always remember as gentle and firm, belonging to the woman who had inspired and taught her everything she knew, was now tinted with coldness and indifference she had used against foes. "I have misjudged your ability."

Sumia stopped two steps away from her. "We should have never trusted you."

"No—!"

Cordelia opened her eyes and drew in a sharp breath.

What she saw was only the ceiling of her room.

Her breaths shortly came in gasps, and a second later she realized that her cheeks were wet with tears. Despite the low temperature, her clothes and hair stuck to her skin, a sign that she'd been sweating profusely. Blindly she sat up and threw her gaze at the door.

It was closed. Locked. With no one standing before it.

No Sumia. No Chrom.

No Phila.

It had been…a dream?

Cordelia tried to control her ragged breathing. Her hands were trembling, and she clutched them together, held them close to her drumming heart, hoping that the tremor would subside.

The room was dimly lit like in the dream, yes, but the storm had seemed to pass, leaving behind only a soft patter of rain. The air was cold and darkness still reigned. It was probably two or three hours before daybreak, but she didn't trust her mentality to go back to sleep.

'_You are a disappointment.'_

The words were still ringing so clear in her ears. Even as she closed her eyes she could practically hear them being chanted over and over by the ghosts of her own fears. The acidic taste that had been burning her throat and the hotness at the back of her eyes would have spilled more tears. Only that she had no more to shed.

Of all the things that had been haunting her the unconscious had presented her with her biggest fear. Their rejection had been too much to bear. The dream had struck too close.

_Get a hold of yourself_. Cordelia tried to shake those unpleasant feelings off—with little success. But, no, she wouldn't linger in the pit of despair, lest she wanted to lose herself to events that had yet to pass. She would face Chrom and Sumia one day, she knew. But that one day was yet to arrive, and for the present time, she had a task. A mission, so to speak.

_A mission you know barely anything of_, her logic sneered with contempt.

While it may be true that Robin was a person she would not be willing to trust overnight, his battle plans in the past had proven to bring victories. She still wasn't sure what he had meant by all of this, but seeing Kellam here had ignited a small spark of hope that this mission, or whatever it was that the Grand Master had in mind, was not a serious deal that had been meticulously planned. If Robin planned something, then he must have seen a chance in obtaining his goal. It meant that there was a possibility of getting Princess Lissa and her friend back, however slim it was.

But what role she had to play in this plan of his was still something the man kept from her. He would need her, he'd said. Apart from that, he hadn't stated anything else. The old soul of a knight within her would obey all orders without questions, but her conscience was nagging at the back of her mind. Never had she met a commander so puzzling—a commander whose ideas would test her patience and rationality, no less.

No longer wanting to sit idly and be a victim to her own confusion, she got off the bed and pushed herself to her feet. They were weak, unsteady. Gritting her teeth, she mustered all her strength to stride as quickly as possible to the brass basin placed atop a desk across the room. The cold water it contained was a refresher she sought. It wiped the dry tears off her face, woke her mind, washed the remnants of the dream away. She emptied a jug of water to clear the lump in her throat and felt quite a lot better.

A soft knock on her door, and dimly Cordelia wondered of who would be insane enough to come to her room in such an hour before opening it.

A pair of shadowed black eyes stared into hers.

Cordelia blinked. "Tharja?"

"You are expected by Robin at the stables," the mage curtly said.

Had she been here all along, with Kellam? She was sure she hadn't seen another Shepherd in town. "I didn't know you were here."

A faint shrug of slender shoulders. "You didn't. That's the point."

'The point in what' was what Cordelia about to ask, but Tharja sharply cut in by saying, "A minute you waste by conversing with me will be better spent by preparing yourself for your journey."

Cordelia had not really interacted much with Tharja during their travel with the Shepherds, but she knew that talking back to Tharja bore a risk of being hexed. No, not to death; maybe a few hours of skin irritation or the likes. Some of the men had suffered various diseases of baffling effects when they had displeased her. Being hexed after suffering from a nightmare attack was the last thing Cordelia wanted, and so, she quickly did as she was told while the woman in black stood waiting by the door, looking at all uninterested in Cordelia's hasty efforts in washing herself and preparing.

At the task of donning her armor of leather she paused for a brief second that surprisingly enticed a comment from Tharja. "Wise choice. Traveling in heavy gears might attract prying eyes."

"You would have hexed me if I did buy a steel armor?"

"No. I would have cursed you so you will forever be allergic to anything made of metal."

Cordelia let her mouth curl up to form a smile. "It's assuring to have a companion as caring as you are."

"I was hoping that I would get the chance, actually."

"Pity you wouldn't." She wasted no more seconds to fit into the suit, and despite feeling a bit anxious and strange, she soon found the material to be loosely comfortable. Or close to comfortable as it could get. Leather was obviously more durable than steel, and only now did she realize what perks could she gain from being clad in such a light outfit, but she missed the weight of her armor and the sturdiness of steel plates.

Grabbing her javelin, traveling cloak, and strapping her belts and bags, Cordelia was ready in less than five minutes. "I'm done. Lead the way."

Tharja spared her a look as she walked along the dark corridor and to the stairs. "It's good to see you are more practical than meticulous when it needs to be," the mage noted.

"I'm only meticulous when it comes into groups and supplies," Cordelia answered. Taking care of her own person was something that wouldn't take much of her time since she knew exactly what had been done and what was amiss. Things were different with people whom she was not close to.

"Hm. Acceptable."

The two came to the tavern at the base where no one save for the inn keeper was around. Tharja gave the man a bag of coins and the inn keeper gave her a bundle of dark green cloak in return, then she gave the cloak to Cordelia, who stared in puzzlement. "My coat is already rainproof and I am in no need of a change," she said.

"Never is it about rainproof coats. Take yours off and exchange it with this." And as usual, before Cordelia could utter a simple 'Why', Tharja had already silenced her with a glare.

Mutely Cordelia complied.

Tharja then led her out of the inn and into the stables. The rain was light but the air was definitely not suited for a fast travel. It was almost freezing outdoor, and visibility was low due to fog and lingering darkness. But soon she found that the cloak gave her more warmth than was expected, and she wondered if Tharja had enchanted it with some anti-cold spell.

Kellam and Robin were already at the stables. Robin, leaning against a wooden frame while tending to a horse, and Kellam—a tall silhouette in the dark she would have missed had he not moved to greet them—was with the Pegasii. "Wet morning, is it?" Kellam said.

"It is." Cordelia noticed that Robin was clad in the same cloak as hers while Kellam's cloak was similar to the one Robin had worn yesterday. Understanding finally dawned on her. "Ah. You two will be playing decoys?"

"We can't trust the people in foreign towns and villages," Robin said. "It is safe to assume that our movements have been and are being spied upon by the enemy just as we have been and are spying upon theirs."

"We are?" asked Cordelia.

Truthfully she had meant for the rhetorical question to be left ignored or to be dismissed by some sarcastic remark the man had always used to rebuff her questions, but this time Robin did neither. "Why do you think I sent Gaius and Miriel ahead? What?" he demanded. "Don't look so surprised; I'm insulted. What sort of tactician do you think I am?"

Actually she was more surprised that he did answer her question for once. There was something odd with Robin today. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but him replying to her questions was one thing. But in no way was she going to push her luck. Knowing the man's susceptibility to irritability, she knew questions were best to be voiced one at a time. "Apologies," she simply said.

Kellam and Tharja moved to mount the Pegasii, and Cordelia gave a short tutorial on how to properly ride them and taught them the commands of simple aerial maneuvers. They would be able to take off in the rain, but she cautioned them not to fly too high and to land as soon as the wind kicked up. She was fearing more of their Pegasii-handling than the winged beasts' capacity to fly in the rain. Flying might seem simple, but one wrong movement could throw even the most skilled Pegasus rider off balance.

Once they had grasped the basics, Robin opened the stables' gates to let the two ride off. "Send in doves at approximated times we've discussed," Robin said to the two. "If there is a change in plans or routes I will notify you through the same means."

"Understood, Rob." To Cordelia, Kellam nodded and smiled. "Stay safe."

"Thank you, Kellam. And Tharja," she said to the woman. "Stay safe too."

The mage regarded her with a stare that Cordelia would best describe as mildly amused. "That's what hexes and curses are for."

Cordelia could only hope the enigmatic woman wouldn't hex the poor Pegasii.

Tharja's gaze was lingering at Robin. The Grand Master's usually tout lips formed a smile, and Cordelia could at last piece together her earlier note of observation. Robin seemed more…awake today. His gaze sharper, his temperament less tetchy; his posture was showing a little bit more nonchalance. "I'll do just fine," he said to Tharja. "I'll remember your word of caution."

If the mage was assured by his words, there would be no way of knowing it by her expression alone. A low mutter of 'Fine' was all she said in return.

Robin nodded to the two. "Now ride safely, friends."

The Pegasii stormed out of the stables.

"Now…" Robin turned to the two horses that had been saddled. "If my calculation is right, then we should be able to depart within minutes."

"Northwest still?"

"Northwest still," Robin agreed.

Cordelia took her next step carefully. "By any chance, has Gaius or Miriel informed you of…anything?"

"Gaius has. The Princess and the Lady are alive, if that's your concern."

Only a miniscule of burden felt lifted from her heart. "Are they…"

"Fine?" Robin asked when she stalled, and there was an undertone in the way he said it that made Cordelia hold her tongue. "Not that much is currently known, but if they live then there should be reason enough to continue our pursuit. But there is a big chance that they are. The Valmese didn't take them for torturing purposes." Deftly he mounted his horse, and once again his expression flattened. "If you're that worried then you should simply tag along and see for yourself."

Cordelia mounted her horse and steadied her balance. Mounting a horse that had no wings was also something she had not used to. "I don't mind you withholding information you think is crucial from me. My purpose is only to serve Ylisse. But…"

"But?"

She didn't continue. Robin didn't wait for long. He inclined his head and muttered a soft, "Ahh. 'But'… You do not trust me."

She had let him wonder for himself, to come into a conclusion that stemmed from his own guesses so she would be able to see how he would interpret his own words and actions towards her. Her guess had been right, then. All along he had been purposively circling matters, never quite coming so close as to discuss his next moves or explain the whole mechanisms.

"I do not mind your distrust that much." His speculative tone turned stiff. "When a game is fully understood by every player who participates, won't every battle become futile?"

"That is one twisted view."

He expelled a breath. A mirthless smile that wasn't reaching his eyes played upon his lips. "Your coldness wounds me. If your instinct tells you to distrust me, then by all means, follow it. Do know one thing, though—" from beneath his hood, his eyes narrowed as they stared hard. "Princess Lissa and her friend are dear to me, as much as the Exalt and his wife are to you. I treasure the royals as my very first friends, and I," he dropped his voice low, and in that moment Cordelia felt, rather than saw, a wave of heat blazed as Robin tightened his hold on the reins; faint as it was, it made his horse neigh uncomfortably, "don't turn my back on those whom I cherish."

In the seconds that passed, low temperature seeped back into the stables. Cordelia, who had unconsciously gripped her own mount's reins tight, loosened a bit and felt as if there was a veil in her mind that prevented her from trying to wonder what exactly had happened. Wast it...magic? Or was it something else entirely? She couldn't be too sure. Straightening her posture as well as blinking away whatever tricks or illusions that the Grand Master might have cast, she said, "I shall trust your motives. For now."

Robin gave a mock-salute. "That is more than what I could ask for, My Lady."

"And so prone are you to insults and mockery."

"If you have known me that much, you might as well as adapt." Robin had said it with a slight widening of his eyes. With him, Cordelia always had this feeling that the man was mocking and measuring her at the same time. Each reply was designed to entice her, to draw out her emotions to the surface; each gesture and change in expression seemed to have one sole purpose of prompting her to backlash.

She didn't like it.

And they had only been stuck together for one day.

She forced herself to look unaffected. "A good suggestion."

"Now that you have taken it to heart, may we also ride off."

Swiftly he kicked his horse into gallop and out into the foggy morning.

This was better, she decided as rode after him. Being stuck with him was better than facing Chrom or Sumia—better than wandering aimlessly without any goals in mind or living in shame for the rest of her days. But it was not like she would be a willing pawn in his game. She would play along, yes. But while she was at it she would learn how he played.

* * *

><p>- A -<p>

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><p>The morning upon his return to the capital, Chrom literally jumped from his mount when the castle gates were opened from him.<p>

Ignoring the wary eyes of the guards he ran into the building, traced the steps to the throne room, then bustled through the doors, Frederick and Stahl catching up behind him. The only persons there were two ministers and a steward, who jumped at his sudden, unannounced, entrance.

"Tell me," Chrom said, his breaths coming in and out too fast, "what is the meaning of this?" He held out the short letter he had received three days before that had made him ride home as fast as he could.

"That's, Your Highness—" a minister attempted to explain, but it was cut short by Chrom.

"I've heard, so cut your nonsense!" the Exalt half-shouted. Adrenaline was pulsing through his veins and he couldn't ease the tightness in his stomach that made him into a ball of nerves. "I don't care how it happened! What news of my sister?"

"Safe, Your Highness. Taken hostage, but safe."

To his surprise, the one who had answered him was none other than the servant boy. Chrom directed his glare at him. Before Frederick could say anything about the impropriety of talking to the Exalt when not directly addressed, the boy had resumed with an uncanny calmness the twitching ministers beside him did not possess. "Lord Robin and the Shepherds are in pursuit of the Valmese who have taken Princess Lissa and Lady Maribelle hostages, Your Highness. The Grand Master has divided the Shepherds into parties and sent them each with different tasks."

"Robin has…" Chrom shut his eyes. Calm down. Calm _the hell _down. He opened them again and curled and uncurled his fists. "Robin's in pursuit?" he asked when he regained his cool.

"Yes," the boy assured.

"And who might you be?" Frederick inquired.

"Lord Robin's servant, My Lord. My name is Jay. He's tasked me to deliver letters and reports from the castle to the Shepherds who have gone out."

A series of thoughts came and clashed in Chrom's head. There were so many things he needed to know, he needed to confirm. He settled on, "There's a chance of getting Lissa back. Is it?"

The boy nodded. "The Valmese has taken Princess Lissa and Lady Maribelle in hopes of trading them with something the haildom's possession."

"Those dirty bastards," Stahl muttered under his breath.

"Lord Robin is sure that as long as we are showing a positive sign that we are to accept their request the hostages will not be harmed," continued Jay.

"And what is this thing that they demand from us?" asked Chrom.

"That, Your Highness, is solely known only by the Grand Master and the boy," one of the ministers said with a shake of his head. "He was persistent on leaving us in the dark."

Jay quickly did a bow. "My deepest apologies, Your Highness, but I am not permitted by the Grand Master to tell a soul, lest his plan be foiled."

Chrom considered this. He knew Robin, had known him for quite some time, and despite not understanding the way his mind worked sometimes, he knew well enough that when the man kept secrets from him was when he had a goal in mind. When he had something to utilize. "What now, then?"

The ministers looked startled by how easily Chrom went along with what Jay said. "Your Highness!" the oldest of them spoke. "You must not be so hasty!"

"If Robin has a plan then all we can do is to go along with it," Chrom said, feeling impatient once. "He and I have stood side by side for more than two years and I know what kind of person he is. Ylisse has not tasted bitter defeat against the Plegians—I should attribute our victory to his ingenious ideas." That silenced the ministers. To Jay, Chrom gestured so he would speak.

"The Grand Master sent a letter this dawn through a Shepherd, Sir Kellam, just an hour ago. He said that he is on the move towards Port Ferox and that he needs your assistance in approaching the Khan of the West."

Basilio? "For what purpose?"

"Snuggling the Shepherds into territory of Valm, Your Highness." Jay looked at Frederick and Stahl to include them when he mentioned the word 'Shepherds.' His gaze swiveled back to Chrom. "Led by you."

Chrom's bewilderment peaked at this. "I am to lead an army into the land of Valm?"

"At the approximated time, yes. The Shepherds who have gone their way will disguise themselves as persons of little import."

"Wait," said Frederick. "You're telling us that Robin does not plan on catching up with the Valmese?"

"No. He plans to cross the sea and conduct the trade in their territory."

"Did he tell you why?" Frederick asked.

"So Lissa and Maribelle will be kept safe," Chrom answered for Jay. "If they were to catch up with the Valmese and say, ambush them on the way, there's no guarantee that they wouldn't slit their hostages' throats in defense." Even thinking about it made his blood run cold. With some difficulty he pushed the horrid image away. "Tell, Jay: what will be doing as we wait for this…approximated time?"

At that the boy's black eyes glinted in the very same way Robin's would when he was about to present a hidden card up on his sleeve. Jay unfolded a brown paper that was a map that had been tucked under his tunic. It was of Valm. "Now, Your Highness, we strategize."

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><p>~ x x x ~<p>

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><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Due to thesis, thesis, and thesis, I can't promise a fast update. Just to be safe expect me to update / 2 weeks or 3... *sobs*_

_Coalacious: finally she does ;) it's very interesting to write such an enigmatic character | drunkdragon: it will develop, their misunderstandng, one way or the other... we're talking about Robin, we're talking about his shadow. | Simbasam: Kellam's funny to write too! I'm happy that there are readers who are amused by his talent as much as I am. | nathanrichardson1997: it should be me thanking you for reading and reviewing :D | Vivaldino: I owe the sneezing part to a good experience up in a cold place... misery. | blissford angel: thank you for sharing your thoughts! They mean a lot to me. | Like A-boo: You know what, I need some MEGA luck on that. *goes back to my thesis docs and pouts* | gransworthX: thank you for reviewing too! | RutsybladeR: her methods are indeed strange and unconventional, yes? Such is the reason why she has a lot of fans? | EveBlaze14: I totally agree with you. I do hope to see more of Em-Rob fics coming ;( | Guest: The route is steep but I'm up for it! | Zen Kazushi: Why, so many praises! Can't thank you enough! Writing a fic based on a game with many humors and comedic effects in a serious tone is indeed a challenge. Hope it's enjoyable still! | Lazullee: glad you like their entrances to the story! I'll strive to do better :) | ShakeSoda: worry not, there will be plenty of those, I promise. | Heinz: exactly. It's open to interpretation. Hahaha | shippaocchan: just stay tuned and wait until they appear eh? ;) | Blue masked rider: could be. Could be not. 'M not telling. *whistles* | InkShaw: so good to see her getting a warm greeting. I'll write more of her. | Shaded C-071: they will appear in time, don't worry. And yes, I understand what you mean :( | Shouhei T3: continue, I will. ASAP I can't guarantee... My thesis... where is my thesiss... | Capn StarSparoow: he is indeed a workaholic, hm? but working on rob's magic is truly refreshing, so I hope it is enjoyable :) | XC Zh-4: thank you so much! may you tear up some more (?) | Lucious Vayne: thank you for pointing those out, sir! your words mean a lot to me. A writer can only get better through feedbacks and comments after all. | INISU: you know what, it is your review that made me include Emm in the character search engine... | Razorral: impossible indeed ;) thank you for reviewing though! | Ianthee: and so good to meet a reader from MoBD again! may you enjoy this one! | Zack001: why the pessimism? ;) | Oblique Moon: they are bound to be good friends yes? It's fun to write them so it's great to hear that their scenes are enjoyable._


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